Notes: Here are some highlights from the newlyweds' life from August through Thanksgiving. (Also, in this 'verse, only Lorelai is pregnant. Sookie, Liz, and Lane are not.)
August 15, 2006
The bird's shiny glass eyes were staring at her.
Lorelai could feel them piercing through her brain. She cleared her throat, slyly glanced up over the trade magazine she was reading, and locked eyes with the raven perched on a shelf over by the window. Eventually her shoulders relaxed and she blinked. She'd learned long ago that Rasputin was always going to win a staring contest.
Luke had a fit when he learned she'd put the raven in her office. Rory had tried to logically talk her out of it. Sookie had shrieked the first 17 times she'd walked in and forgot it was there. Michel always carried something in his hand to block it from his sight when he needed to come into her office. The consensus seemed to be that the stuffed bird was creepy and disturbing, but she liked him all the same.
He had been a gift from the Poes to commend her for a job well-done. As much as the memories from the night of the fire still made her shiver with dread, she was proud of the way she'd handled that emergency. And that was what Rasputin meant to her. On the days when she felt like she'd done everything wrong she could look over to where he was perched on his shelf and remember the one time she did everything right.
Well, almost everything. She felt her lips tugging up into a grin. In retrospect, she should've never let Luke snore away on that couch all by his lonesome. His old bed was tiny, but she suspected they could've made it work. They could've locked Jess up in the closet. And Nicole…
There wouldn't have been a Nicole after that, Lorelai thought victoriously, flinging her head back in imagined triumph.
Her stomach growled and she instantly looked at the clock. Almost on cue, knuckles rapped on her door.
"Oh, who could it be?" she drawled, in her Scarlett O'Hara voice, quickly sprinting over to the door to open it. "I do hope it's not any of those nasty soldiers that are eatin' me out of house and home!" She swept open the door, eying the tray Sookie was balancing in hungry appreciation even as she dramatically threw an arm across her forehead. "As God as my witness, I'll never be hungry again!"
Sookie giggled and brought the tray over to her desk. "Hate to break this to you Scarlett, but you're always hungry!"
"Boy, that's the truth," Lorelai agreed happily, plopping back down into her chair. She eagerly reached for a still-warm slice of homemade bread, liberally smeared with Sookie's fresh peach preserves. Her eyes gobbled up the sight of blueberries filling up a pretty china teacup along with a tempting glass of ice-cold milk. "Yum," she hummed in approval, relishing the sweet peach flavor serenading her mouth.
"The peaches this year are phenomenal," Sookie agreed, attacking a peach-smeared slice of her own. She licked her lips, nodding. "Jackson says he can't ever remember a year like this."
"We need to build a root cellar," Lorelai concluded, still chewing ecstatically. "You need to make lots and lots of this so we'll have plenty for over the winter."
Sookie licked some preserves off her thumb. "We've got peach pie for tonight."
Lorelai stopped chewing. "With vanilla ice cream?"
"Uh huh," Sookie confirmed. "Being churned as we speak."
Lorelai's eyes grew wider. She glanced over at the clock. "Maybe I'll just stay here for dinner tonight."
Sookie threw back her head and laughed. "Yeah. That'd really get me in Luke's good graces!"
"Well, he could always come over and join us," Lorelai shrugged, smiling.
The two ladies plundered the items on the tray in silence for a few minutes.
"You know, Sook, this afternoon tea idea of yours is pure gold," Lorelai commended her, wiping up a spot of preserves left on the plate.
Sookie nodded, trying to corral some escaped blueberries tumbling towards the edge of the desk. "It seemed like a good way to keep my eye on you."
Lorelai's infectious laugh bubbled out past the mouthful of bread. "You have to keep your eye on me?" she questioned. "Am I that unpredictable?"
Sookie frowned at a spot of jam now gracing her chef's smock. She scrubbed at it with a napkin. "Well, you know," she murmured, concentrating on the stain instead of what her friend had said, "Luke asked me to, and this seemed like a good way to make sure I saw you in the afternoon."
Lorelai felt the blood in her veins nearly slow to a stop. The bread that had been manna from heaven just a few seconds ago turned to sawdust in her mouth and she had to force herself to swallow. She laid down the slice she'd been eating and carefully rubbed her fingers on the napkin. "Luke asked you to?" she questioned warily.
"Yeah." Sookie was still obsessed with the spot staining her embroidered name. "He wanted to make sure you weren't running yourself into the ground here, and so he asked me…" Her brain finally caught up with her words and she stopped, gasping in a sharp breath of realization. Her eyes flew to Lorelai's. "Oh, Lorelai, I didn't mean…Don't be mad at me, OK?"
"I'm not mad at you, Sook," Lorelai said levelly. She pushed herself back away from her desk, as far away from the food now turning her stomach as possible.
"And don't blame Luke," Sookie begged. "He's just worried about you. It's sweet, Lorelai, really. Remember how crazy Jackson was, the first time? Remember how he came after us on the front porch with my meat cleaver?"
"Oh, God," Lorelai breathed out. She stood up, taking a few nervous steps away from the desk. Her hands pushed through her hair as the feeling of dread washed over her. "He told you?" Her arms tightened over her stomach, feeling sick to her core.
"No! No!" Sookie bolted up and scurried over to Lorelai, putting reassuring hands on her elbows. "No, he didn't tell me," she repeated, anxiously. "But I've been pregnant twice now, and it didn't take more than a few times of seeing you turn green in the kitchen and catching you asleep at the check-in counter for me to figure it out." Her impish grin broke out. "You're not that mysterious, lady!"
"Oh, Sookie." Lorelai rubbed at her forehead while shaking her head. "I'm so, so sorry. I wanted to tell you in some big, exciting way. I wasn't trying to keep it from you, honest. I just wanted to make the telling into some big theatrical production." She put her hands onto Sookie's shoulders and looked into her friend's warm eyes. "I didn't want you to find out like this."
"Well, I don't actually know," Sookie pointed out. She tried to pull her mouth down and shutter her dancing eyes. "Lorelai, are you all right? Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" she asked playfully.
Lorelai was still stunned that Luke had overstepped their unwritten rules and had tipped Sookie off. She was horrified that her best friend had found out about her pregnancy accidentally. However, she didn't want to disappoint her again, so she pushed everything aside for the moment and concentrated on the joy of what she was about to say.
"Guess what?" Lorelai lightly rested her arms on Sookie's shoulders, bending her head down to whisper into her ear. "I'm pregnant!"
Sookie shrieked with as much delight as if she was truly just hearing the news. She started bouncing in happiness and Lorelai soon followed suit, laughter pushing aside her discomfiture temporarily.
"Oh, Lorelai, that's wonderful!" Sookie gave her a tight squeeze. "I know how much you'd hoped for another baby someday! Come here and tell me everything!" She took Lorelai's hand and pulled her over to the small loveseat in the room. "When are you due? When did you know? Is Luke thrilled? Oh!" Her eyes beamed even brighter when she tumbled down onto the seat. "Our kids can grow up together!"
"Yeah, they can!" Lorelai agreed, curling up in her corner of the small floral couch, facing Sookie. "We'll be able to open our own daycare here!"
A curt rap at the door preceded Michel joylessly entering the room.
"Michel, you'd watch the kids if we had a daycare here, wouldn't you?" Lorelai greeted him, hoping to watch him squirm.
"Oh, but of course," Michel said dourly, placing a folder on Lorelai's desk. He turned and headed back out, giving very little notice to the two laughing women on the couch and deliberately keeping his gaze turned away from the creepy stuffed raven. "The babies, they love me."
"Baby crepes!" Lorelai trilled, giggling. "Baby crepes for everyone," she said then, more soberly, and Michel gave her an appraising look before he sniffed and shut the door soundly behind him.
"So…" Sookie said leadingly, leaning forward to clasp Lorelai's hands. "You knew you were pregnant when…"
"The stick turned pink in Burger King's restroom in Woodbury," Lorelai revealed.
"Oh, the new one? That's a really nice restroom," Sookie said approvingly. She sighed contentedly. "Go on," she urged, smiling happily.
Anxious to do right by her friend, Lorelai threw herself into her storytelling mode, determined to disregard the internal trepidation she felt still churning.
After Sookie left her office Lorelai tried to get back to business and ignore her smoldering irritation at Luke, but it was like trying to ignore a broken fingernail. Try as she might, her thoughts keep trying to smooth over the jagged edges. Finally she grabbed her stuff and marched towards the door, calling a goodbye to her staff.
By the time she parked next to the square and headed into the diner her irritation had flamed into a full-blown snit. She took pleasure in flinging open the door and catching Luke's shocked eyes with her angry ones.
"You. Me. Backroom. Now!" she ordered curtly, heading for the curtain.
She heard Kirk's sing-song voice: "Somebody's in trouble!" She heard Luke grumble "Shut up, Kirk!" as he reluctantly came around the counter to follow her.
She fueled her anger by pacing across the small room until Luke appeared. He looked at her questioningly, stepping just inside the space.
"Door," she ordered.
He sighed, complying with her request. "What's going on?"
"Oh, I just had the most fascinating conversation with Sookie," she spat at him, her hands on her hips. "It turns out she knew I was pregnant!"
Luke's forehead wrinkled. "How'd she know that?"
"Luke!" She all but stamped in foot in frustration. "How do you think she knew? You told her!"
"I did not!" he denied hotly. "I did no such thing!"
"Yes, you did!" she insisted, fuming. "You told her she needed to watch me, like I was some invalid or some character from a Victorian novel! It didn't take more than that! What in the world were you thinking?"
"That's not the way it was!" He pressed his lips together, trying to formulate his defense. "I just asked her to let me know if she noticed you overdoing it at the Inn. That's all I said!"
"But that was enough! That's all she needed to hear! She's my best friend, Luke! How could you spoil this for me?"
His head gave an angry jerk. "You could have told her at any time!" he pointed out. "Besides, I wouldn't have had to spoil anything if you'd just take care of yourself."
"I wasn't ready to tell her yet! You know that! I was still trying to come up with the perfect way to tell her but you took that away from me!" Lorelai took a moment to draw a breath, the fresh oxygen making her anger flame up even more. "And do you think I'm such an idiot that I'm not gonna take care of myself? Come on! Besides, I'm only pregnant, just like millions of other women! It's not that big of deal. I'm not dying of consumption or something. I don't need people watching over me!"
Luke took a step closer, his face dark. "It's a big deal to me! I don't care about anybody else! I care about you!"
"Well, back off!" she hotly ordered. "I don't need you skulking behind me, pulling the strings! I've had my parents trying to do that all of my life, and I certainly didn't trade them for you! You don't get to tell me what to do!"
"Funny," he snapped, "it sure sounds like you're telling me what to do all the time. I wasn't aware it only went one way."
"You know what? I can't talk to you about this anymore!" She pivoted around him in agitation and yanked open the door, striding down the shadowed hallway. She stalked across the dining room, taking wicked pleasure in hearing the sharp retorts of her high heels hitting the wooden floor, punctuating her anger in a way her words couldn't.
She was nearly to the Jeep before he caught up with her.
"Wait!" He grabbed her elbow. "You can't do this!"
She tried to shake him off, even more irritated. "Yes, I can! I need to get out of here!"
"No, Lorelai!" He visibly gulped and shook his head. "You can't just go! I don't…I don't know where the line is."
"The line?" She shook her head too, in confusion. "What line?" she snapped, anxious to be gone, away from him.
He looked past her, to some point over the hood of the Jeep. "The line where you don't come back," he painfully muttered.
She snorted in exasperation. "Where else would I go?" she demanded peevishly.
He looked at her then, his eyes soft and pleading, his lips pressed together to contain the hurtful memory, and 'Boston' floated in the air between them as clearly as if he'd actually uttered the word.
Suddenly icy air flowed into her lungs and she felt shaky. "Oh, Luke," she breathed out. She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes. He cautiously placed his hands at her waist.
"I'm mad at you," she explained to him softly. "I'm really mad at you. That's gonna happen with us a lot. We've gotta be able to yell at each other, you know? You can't be thinking that every time we have a fight it's over between us. You know that, right?" She pulled back to look at him.
He sighed while his eyes darted around, trying to find words to match his feelings. "I guess I know," he grudgingly admitted. "But that doesn't stop the worry."
"You can worry about lots of stuff, Luke, but you don't have to worry about that," she promised him. Their eyes held for several long moments before she pulled away, inching once more towards the car.
"You're still leaving?" he demanded, sounding shocked.
"I'm still mad," she told him calmly.
"Where are you going?" The poor man was so confused.
She settled herself behind the wheel. "The Williams-Sonoma in Hartford. You owe Sookie some hugely expensive cooking gadget."
"Lorelai―"
"I'll be back," she told him, meeting his gaze with determination. "When I get home, we'll talk about this more. And I expect you to put up a fight," she warned him, starting the car. "So be ready. You don't get to sit there and stew in silence."
His fingers grasped the edge of the window as he searched for the right thing to say. "Be careful," he finally muttered.
"I will," she told him levelly. "I love you, Luke."
There was a long pause before he nodded. "I love you too."
"See you at home," she said lightly, and drove away.
Lorelai was immensely grateful when she at last staggered up the steps to their front door, lugging a large, awkward bag that kept knocking against her shin. She'd stayed away as long as she dared, trying to find the perfect balance between showing her displeasure and not worrying him too much. The high heels that had added so much satisfaction while she walked away from their fight had not been good shoes for a session of anger-shopping. Her feet hurt terribly and her ankles felt swollen. She was ready to drop in exhaustion.
She entered a dark, quiet house, and for a moment panic skittered through her until her eyes focused on Luke's body tensed on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table. She reached to turn on a light, her nose telling her that he hadn't made any dinner.
The small light seemed to flood the dark room and they both blinked.
"I do get to tell you what to do!" he insisted, his feet landing hard on the floor. He turned to face her, the bottled up words storming out. "You don't have to do it, but I do get to tell you!"
"OK, see, when I said be ready to fight, I didn't mean the second I walked through the door," Lorelai groaned, sinking down onto the couch.
He leaned forward, obviously more than ready to voice everything he'd been pondering since she drove away from the diner. "You've got to stop thinking that you're invincible. You're not Wonder Woman! Someday every bad thing you've done to your body is going to catch up with you, and I have no desire to see it happen while you're carrying our baby. If my concern messes up your plans, then I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is!"
She hadn't expected him to be this ardent. "Where is this coming from?" she asked, flummoxed, slipping a pillow behind her back to ease the tension there.
"Where is this coming from?" he scoffed. "Gee, I don't know, Lorelai. Maybe it's coming from the night we flew to the emergency clinic because you were bleeding!"
"Luke," she protested. "That didn't have anything to do with the baby – well, except that the pregnancy hormones had flooded over everything. I'm fine. The baby's fine. I'm healthy as the proverbial horse. You know that! You really don't need to worry."
"I don't…" He rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. "I don't need to worry," he said, in a slightly mocking tone. "Do you realize that I feel like I've spent most of my life worrying about you and Rory? There's no way I can just turn it off now. It comes with the territory of loving you. I've watched you run yourself into the ground over and over again through the years. Of course I'm going to worry!"
"Listen to me." She leaned forward too, laying her hands over his knee. "I'm already in love with this baby. There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect and guard this little peanut here. Do you honestly think I'd do anything to jeopardize our baby?"
"No," he muttered, conceding that point. "But you don't always realize when you're going too far. You get all caught up in something and you don't even realize it until you're dropping from exhaustion."
She frowned and bent over, trying to loosen the straps that were digging into her ankles. "Maybe I did that when the Dragonfly first opened, but I don't have to do that anymore. I just sit back and reap the benefits now."
"Right," he said, his tone sarcastic. He reached down and pulled her legs up, positioning her feet in his lap. "And who took over Tobin's shift last week when his aunt died?" His fingers eased off her shoes and started soothing over the indentations they'd left on her toes.
She moaned deeply in approval. It was hard to fight when he was making her feel so good. "But I'm the boss. I have to make sure things keep running."
"I think that's exactly my point," he said. His hands stopped while he glared at her She rubbed her feet impatiently against him, wanting him to continue the massage.
"So what would you have me do?" she cried out, irritation starting to seep into her voice. "Not have anybody manning the desk?"
"Of course not. But you've got to learn to delegate more. Yes, you're responsible to keep things running smoothly, but that doesn't mean the only way to do that is to do it yourself."
"Look who's talking," she sniffed.
"But I'm not pregnant," he countered.
She grinned in spite of herself. "I'm trying to picture that. Do they make maternity flannel?"
He sighed and started rubbing her feet again and she leaned back in ecstasy, her eyes sliding closed. "I am sorry I tipped off Sookie. That wasn't my intention."
"She's my best friend, Luke. I'd been looking forward so much to telling her. You robbed me of that, and it wasn't fair."
He bent his head down, concentrating on his hands kneading her feet. "I thought I was your best friend," he finally said, gruffly.
She smiled up at the ceiling, not looking at him. "You're everything I could ever want, Luke, all rolled up in one convenient flannel-clad package. But Sookie gets the girl stuff you don't. We held each other up for a lot of years, during sad times and good. And this was a good that I was really looking forward to sharing with her."
His shoulders hunched over her feet. "Sorry," he muttered.
She made a tiny humming noise, letting him know that she'd accepted his apology. She lost herself in the delicious feeling of his hands massaging her feet.
"Oh!" She suddenly lurched up, her feet nearly connecting with Luke's chin while she tried to right herself.
His arms flailed, trying to protect himself. "Geez, Lorelai!"
"Sorry, sorry!" She swung herself around so that she was once again sitting on the couch. "I just thought of something that might fix this."
"What?"
"When Sookie was pregnant with Davey, she didn't exactly tell me, either," Lorelai explained, her eager words spilling out. "We actually figured it out at the same time and went running to tell each other. And then with Martha, it took Norman Mailer. So," she shrugged, still smiling, "maybe this is OK, too, that she knew before I actually got to tell her. Maybe this is just the way we do things."
Luke's eyes finally met hers. "She's happy about it, right?" he asked cautiously, remembering that Sookie hadn't been the biggest fan of their elopement initially.
"She's ecstatic," Lorelai confirmed.
He looked away again, nervously. "Are we OK?"
Lorelai sighed. She got up, moving to stand in front of him. She bent down and moved his hands, clearing his lap for sitting upon. She lowered herself and he welcomed her weight gratefully, falling back against the couch while he cradled her against him.
"You have to trust me," she told him, her voice low and direct. "You talk real purty to me, sometimes, Luke, and you say just the right things. But then something happens and your actions show me that not much's changed. You've got to trust me, Sweetie." She cupped his face with her hands and tipped it up to hers. "I love you. I'm all in. This is our home, and I'm not leaving it, ever. I'm going to be right here, with you, and Rory, and our baby, until my cholesterol-clogged arteries finally shut down."
"Don't joke," Luke admonished her, his voice husky.
"I'm not joking." She smoothed his hair back and looked deep into his eyes before she leaned down and captured his mouth. She pulled away reluctantly, letting her lips cling to his for an extra second or two. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes." His hand reached for her face, bringing her down for another kiss. "But I think it's good, maybe, that I worry. Maybe that makes sure I don't take this for granted. That I don't take you for granted."
She let the tension seep out of her while she rested up against him. "We're gonna fight, you know. That's us, Luke. The bickering and the bantering, that's always been the way we've communicated best. I don't want to give that up, you know? Because that's what I love about you. That's what makes you my Luke."
He breathed in the scent of shampoo and food court pretzels tangled in her hair. He smiled, letting his fingers massage her upper arm. "Love you," he whispered into her ear.
"Love you too," she whispered back. "Although I don't know why we're whispering."
He chuckled, shaking his head because he didn't know why either. "So what did I buy Sookie?"
"The greatest cake pan," she told him, her enthusiastic hands flying to illustrate. "It makes a castle cake. It's got turrets and a drawbridge door and everything! It would make the most perfect little girl's princess birthday cake!"
"Of course it would," he agreed sardonically, although his hand smoothed lovingly over her stomach. "What else is in the bag?"
"I got a pan for you, too. It makes a cake that looks like a huge Oreo cookie. I thought it would be perfect for Rory's birthday."
"OK," he said, not even trying to argue. "Anything else?"
The side of her mouth tilted up in a pleased smirk. "I might have found some frilly things that make the most of my new assets." Her hands skimmed over newly-expanded bustline.
His finger traced her neckline. "That you could interest me in."
"I figured." She looked over towards the kitchen, giving her chin a jerk. "Anything worth eating in there?"
His face set in challenge. "I brought salads home for both of us. They're in the refrigerator, waiting."
She moved to get up and he helped, pushing against her back. They stood beside each other, both waiting to see what happened next.
"A salad's fine," she said, her voice firm. "In case you haven't noticed, I've been eating every healthy, disgusting, green thing you've put in front of me." She tipped her head up, accepting his challenge.
He nodded, realizing she was telling the truth. "Yeah, you have," he agreed. "So let's go eat."
They wrapped their arms around each other while making their way towards the kitchen. She felt his arm suddenly tighten around her in a squeeze, telling her more than his words ever could.
She looked up at him, wondering, and he looked away from her, sighing.
"I brought you a pie, too," he admitted, his voice a loving growl.
And just like that, her world was perfect again.
August 28, 2006
"Didn't we just do this?"
"Yeah."
Lorelai stared up at the living room ceiling. Once again, the living room was their bedroom.
"Was I like a lot younger then?"
Luke's voice had that note of long-suffering in it that often accompanied their nighttime discussions. "Possibly. It was a year ago."
"Huh." Lorelai blinked up at the weird patterns made by the moonlight pouring through the front windows. She was wide-awake and on-edge in this familiar but yet oh-so-wrong space. "I feel like I was a different person then. Like now I'm this old grump who doesn't like her routine to be altered. Do you think it's because I'm pregnant this time?"
"Maybe." He tried to shut out the distractions in the room by squeezing closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.
Lorelai's eyes could not have been open further. Sleep was no where in her vicinity. Her head tossed from side to side. "Luke."
"What?" he asked, resigned, throwing an arm over his eyes.
"I hate this."
He was quiet for a moment. "I hate this too," he agreed.
She pushed up on her elbow, looking over at him. "Luke, I don't think I can do this again."
"Well, it's too late now," Luke pointed out reasonably. "Tom and the guys started today. Half the upstairs is torn out. We can't throw 'em out now."
"I don't want to throw them out. I want to throw us out."
Luke's eyes popped open at that. "What?"
"I can't stay here like this. Let's go."
He was fully awake now too. "Go where?" he asked, his voice a little desperate. He rose up on his elbow, too, facing her.
"I don't care. Anywhere. But I can't do this!" Her voice was filled with determination and a little panic.
He tried to sound reassuring. "I don't think it will be as long as last time. I have the feeling from Tom's new gung-ho attitude that your dad must be throwing money at him to make this renovation happen quickly. And there's no TJ this time, so that'll help move things along. We can handle it."
"I don't want to handle it!"
He sighed and tried to take a different tack. "Where would we go?"
She sat up, the sheet following her, leaving him uncovered. For a minute she thought, staring straight ahead. Finally she nodded. "How about your place?"
"My place?" He sat up now, too. "The diner?"
"Why not?"
He ran a hand over his head. "I just moved out of there, Lorelai!"
She was shaking her head even as she was cautiously feeling her way out of the bed. "I don't mean to move there. But we could sleep there, couldn't we? Wouldn't that be better than trying to sleep here in the middle of the living room every night?"
He didn't want to agree but she did have a point. "Maybe," he said grudgingly.
She found the floral lamp by the couch and turned it on, both of them shielding their eyes from the light. She hurried back to sit beside him.
"It'll be cozy," she wheedled. "And think how much time it'll save you in the morning! All you'll have to do is get dressed and go downstairs!"
He looked at her, still unconvinced.
She opened her eyes wide and willed the little pout to her lips. "Please, Luke?" she begged. She tried to look pitiful. "I really hate this."
He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he could withstand that look. They both knew he couldn't.
He held out for a full ten seconds.
"OK," he sighed.
"Yay!" She jumped up and started to grab some clothes.
"Wait. You don't mean now, do you?"
"Of course I mean now. I hate this. You hate this. I can't sleep like this. Come on, let's go! It'll be an adventure!" she cajoled, already throwing things into a bag.
"I hate adventures," he grumbled, flinging himself back down on the bed.
"But you love me!" she reminded him cheerfully.
He sighed and opened his eyes, finally capitulating by throwing his legs over the side after another few seconds. "Yeah, I love you," he grumbled. "I don't know why sometimes, but I do."
September 21, 2006
April sat cross-legged on her bed in her dad's old apartment, her attention riveted to the screen on Lorelai's phone. She didn't think her stepmother was feeling very good today. She'd given April her phone along with her blessing to text her friends before she'd taken her wan face into the bathroom. April had just enough Luke in her to be worried, but on the other hand she'd read up thoroughly on pregnancy, and she understood how unfairly the weight of future generations rested on female shoulders. And the prospect of unlimited texting was too good to pass up in favor of worrying.
Her attention was broken by the sound of feet coming up the stairs. Not Dad's, that was for sure. The sound was lighter. Feminine, but not Lane's. She cocked her head, listening for a moment before heading for the door.
Knuckles rapped sharply against the glass in the door, demanding notice. April's eyebrows raised in suspicion. Her lips set in a firm line before she pulled open the door.
"Yes?" she asked coolly.
The perfectly-coiffed head of the woman in front of her reared back just a touch in surprise. Her eyes ran over April and dismissed her just as quickly. "Is Lorelai Gilmore here?" she demanded.
April's first thought was to wonder if Taylor Doose had a wife she didn't know about, because this snooty woman was exactly who she would cast to play that role. Her second thought was that she'd had ample experience with women like this; those who thought they could put on last year's Jimmy Choo's and go slumming in her mother's boutique and the world at large would recognize their worth and bow down and cater to them. They didn't reckon with April Nardini, who'd gotten a double helping of fiery temperament from both her mom and her dad.
She slipped Lorelai's phone into her pocket and squared her shoulders against the visibly seething woman on the landing. "Who?" she asked sweetly.
The woman's eyes swept over her again in frustration. "I'm looking for Lorelai Gilmore," she enunciated in frustration.
April's chin tipped up even further. "She's not here," she replied, her tone ultra-polite and insincere.
The woman's eyes narrowed at her and her lips pressed together angrily. "So the cretin downstairs in the dirty apron sent me up here in error?"
April thought she'd disliked this woman on sight, but now she was sure of it. No one attacked sweet Caesar in front of her and got away with it.
"Guess so," she drawled, her hand firmly on the doorknob. "Sorry you had to walk all the way up here for nothing," she said sarcastically, nodding towards the stairs. "Have a safe trip down," she urged, not backing down an inch.
"Why you little…hooligan!" The woman made the word sound like the worst epithet she could utter. But she drew herself up and started to walk back down the stairs, her shoulders rigid.
April watched her, waiting. Sometimes she worried about herself; about how people just didn't scare her. Sometimes she worried that maybe she had Asperger's syndrome, or some other psychological disorder that caused her to not assimilate into society the way that she should. But not today. Today she was glad she was just the way she was.
She held her tongue until the woman's navy blue pumps touched the next-to-last step. Then she leaned over the railing, calling down.
"Now, if you were looking for Lorelai Danes, that'd be different."
She could hear the woman's shocked gasp from all the way down the steps. Her pumps turned around and she stomped back up the stairs as quickly as she could.
"You know very well that's who I meant!" the woman fumed, coming to stand in front of April again.
April shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I didn't know."
"Go get her," was the next demand from the visitor.
"Whom should I tell her is calling?" April asked, again using that mock-polite tone.
"Her mother," the woman snapped.
Uh-oh. April felt her confidence slip. In hindsight she realized she should have known this woman was the formidable Emily Gilmore she'd heard so much about. "Um, OK," she wavered, backing towards the bathroom door.
"Lorelai?" April knocked against the door softly. "There's a woman here who claims to be your maternal unit, but frankly, I'm just not seeing the resemblance."
"Oh, God," she heard Lorelai moan from the other side of the door.
In a moment Lorelai hurried out, a thick terrycloth robe tied around her, blotting at her dripping head with a towel. Her face still looked ashen but she quickly wrapped her arm around April, putting herself between her mother and the girl.
"Hi Mom," she said wanly. "So I guess you two have met."
"No, we haven't," Emily fumed.
"OK," Lorelai sighed, playing along. "Mom, this is my stepdaughter, April. April, this is Rory's grandmother."
April felt Lorelai's arm tighten around her in support, and she nearly melted in gratitude. "Nice to meet you," she said meekly, this time with true politeness.
Emily sniffed at her and then turned furiously to Lorelai. "Can you explain to me what in the world is going on here? I come all the way over to your little burg to check on the progress of your building project, only to find that you aren't living there! Some incredibly unpleasant man kicked me out of your house! He had the nerve to tell me I had no business there! Then the strange woman with the gnome affliction told me to try here, but when I got here your husband's nowhere to be found and his poor excuse for employees acted like I wasn't speaking English when I asked for you. Then this disagreeable girl―" Her arm swept over April―"refused to tell me that you were here. Honestly, Lorelai!"
"You didn't ask for her right," April grumbled defensively.
Lorelai looked from her mother to April, and blinked twice when she registered the identical way each of them tilted their jaws towards the other. She sighed as she sank down on the end of the bed, rubbing at her forehead. "I really thought we told you last week at dinner. Didn't we say that we were sleeping here instead of at the construction zone?"
"No, you didn't," Emily snapped. "I certainly wouldn't have subjected myself to the rudeness I experienced this morning if I knew where to find you."
"Well…" Lorelai trailed off listlessly. "I have to get to work." Her hands loosened the towel from her head, wiping errant beads of water trailing across her cheeks. "This isn't a good morning for a progress report."
"So I drove over here for nothing?" Emily demanded.
April looked her stepmother over sympathetically. If Lorelai wasn't perky, it meant she really wasn't feeling good. She looked again at Emily Gilmore, not mature enough to cover the annoyance she felt with the woman's intrusion into their life. She tried to imagine her own mother being this oblivious and demanding, but knew it would never happen between them. She was suddenly drenched with fierce, protective loyalty towards Lorelai.
"I'll go," she stated calmly.
Lorelai's head jerked up. "Go where, sweetie?"
"I'll take her to the house," April said. "I've got almost two hours before Mom gets here. You get ready and go to work. I'll take her and run interference with Tom."
Emily scoffed, but Lorelai was seriously considering the offer. "You don't have to," she pointed out to April.
"I know." April leaned down just a bit, so she could look directly into Lorelai's eyes. "But I want to," she emphasized, making her own eyes do the big, innocent thing Rory was so good at.
Lorelai's face briefly registered surprise before she grinned. "OK, Mom, there's your solution," she said briskly.
"You can't be serious," Emily sputtered, watching the girl march in no-nonsense fashion to the door.
Lorelai shrugged. "It's up to you. If you want to see the house, here's your chance."
Emily's hands went to her hips, fuming wordlessly. Her hands jerked with the arguments she wanted to make, but finally she settled at glaring at Lorelai and stalking past April and out the door.
"Don't let your guard down," Lorelai advised, giving April a wink and a smile.
"I won't," April assured her and clattered down the stairs.
She had to hurry to follow in the woman's angry wake. Emily pointed a key fob at a dark, expensive car and April heard the doors unlock. She dove into the passenger side and rushed to get her seatbelt fastened.
Emily made the car roar into life and pulled out from the curb with barely a glance to confirm the way was clear.
"Turn here," April instructed, pointing right at the first street.
Emily fixed her with a cold, hard stare. "Do you really think I don't know the way to my own daughter's house?"
"Beats me," April replied, just as coolly. "I've never seen you here before."
Emily snorted but kept her eyes on the road. In a few short minutes they pulled up in front of the house.
April led the way. She spotted Tom leaning against the stairway, his finger running over items listed on the clipboard he was holding.
"Hi, Tom," she greeted him, unfazed when he didn't react to her presence. "This is Lorelai's mother. She says it's OK if she looks around."
Tom glanced at April then, and ran his eyes over Emily from head to toe as if he'd never seen her before. "Knock yourselves out," he advised tonelessly. His head inclined briefly towards the top of the stairs. "Don't bug my guys," he warned.
"We won't," April said lightly, and clambered around him to race up the steps.
Emily glared at him regally until he finally capitulated, flattening himself back against the railing, leaving her more room to navigate past him.
"Thank you so much," she said, her voice pitched to the perfect sarcastic frequency. "I certainly hope we aren't inconveniencing you."
"Doesn't matter to me," he pointed out. "I still get paid the same."
She gritted her teeth and followed April up the stairs.
She saw at once that the hallway that had previously stopped just past Lorelai's door had been lengthened and that a bathroom was being framed out. The new hall continued and the barest outline of two new rooms could be discerned from what once had been closed off attic space.
"I really don't think that this is the best location for the bathroom," she observed critically.
April shrugged. "Well, they needed to hook into the existing plumbing."
"I suppose," Emily sighed, sweeping her eyes over the room's dimensions. "It's not going to be very big."
"Doesn't need to be," April refuted. "No one's planning on living in the bathroom." She hurried into the bare wooden space on the west side of the house, looking with pleased fascination at a new window there.
Emily stepped in-between the framing, studying the spaces. "These are the two new rooms? How can they possibly be adequate?"
"They're plenty big," April reassured her, stepping over into the other room. "This is the baby's room," she informed Emily.
"It is?" Emily looked around, baffled. She shook her head. "It seems foolish to not take full advantage of this renovation. This house could be a true showcase. I just don't see how this is going to work."
"Dad says it's fine," April said firmly, "and Lorelai is thrilled with it."
"I suppose," Emily muttered. She spied something taped to the wall and walked over to it. "What's this?" she asked.
"That's the color for the paint."
"Green?" Emily sounded horrified. "Who paints a baby's room green?"
April shrugged. "Lorelai says that green is the new pink."
"What?" Emily looked at April curiously.
"I don't know, but Rory laughs every time Lorelai says it."
"Green," Emily muttered distastefully, trying to stick the paint sample back on the wall.
April came over and helped push the sample over a nail poking out. "Lorelai says that if the baby's a girl, pink will look really good with this shade, and if it's a boy, they can put blue with it, too. Besides, she says it's just the exact shade of the trees out there when they first start to leaf out in the spring." April nodded towards the new window, where she could now see the trees swaying.
Emily looked at her with a bit more interest. "They don't know if it's a boy or a girl?" she asked, incredulous.
April laughed. "Oh, they know, all right! They just won't tell us." At Emily's look she continued. "I'm like, 99% sure they found out last time at the doctor's. But they rushed me out of the room―"
"You were there?" Emily demanded, shocked.
"Oh, yeah," April said, nodding vigorously. "Lorelai and my Mom said OK, and it was so cool, Mrs. Gilmore! The technician showed me all the wires and how everything works, and she let me push around the wand thingy until we found the baby, and it was the coolest thing ever! I saw the heart beating and everything. But then when the doctor said do you want to know about the sex, they shoved me out the door." April grimaced in remembered frustration. "Do you think that was fair?"
"No, I don't," Emily said faintly. She crossed her arms and stepped into the other space. "So this is your room?" she asked, putting a brisk note into her voice.
"Yep." April stepped proudly back into the space. "This is my room-slash-guest room-slash-sewing room-slash-where Luke will sleep when he ticks off Lorelai." She grinned at Emily but lost it quickly when she saw the displeasure on the other woman's face. "Well, I thought it was funny when Lorelai said it," she tried to explain.
"How nice that Lorelai has another member for her fan club," Emily said wearily. She glanced around again, trying to estimate the size. "You seriously think this is going to be big enough for you?"
"Sure." April was once again looking out the window. "I think it's about the same as my room at home. And I'm not going to be here all the time, you know."
"I suppose." Emily sighed, brushing some sawdust off of her jacket. "Do you have a color picked out, too?"
"Oh, yeah!" April rushed over to grab another paint card leaning up against the interior wall. "I was going to do teal, because I'm really into teal right now, you know? But then Lorelai and I brainstormed, and we came up this instead." She pointed to a dark spot of navy blue on the card, but before Emily could voice the disapproval that was clear on her face, April hurried on. "We're going to paint the ceiling this color, and this one wall." She nodded at the wall behind them. "Everything else will be white. My bed will go against this wall, and we're going to hang white fabric on the ceiling and down behind my bed for a headboard. Lorelai says I can put those glow-in-the-dark stars up the on ceiling if I want, and Dad says they'll get me a telescope for Christmas. That's why they put the window here for me. It'll be perfect for that. There's a lot less light pollution here than at my house in Woodbridge. It should be truly awesome."
April could see that Emily's face had softened. "I'm sure that will be very pretty for you," she conceded. "Is it just you and your mom at your home?"
"Yeah, it's always been just the two of us, just like Rory and Lorelai," April stated.
"Your mother runs a store? In Woodbridge?"
April nodded. "She's always been really good at figuring out what people like. She has this knack for spotting trends. A lot of people drive to Woodbridge all the time just to see what she's found. And she has like, clients now, I guess you'd call 'em―people who ask her to find stuff for 'em. There are even a couple of advertising agencies who call her when they're looking for props or a certain style of clothing."
"Well, that's…fascinating. I guess I'll have to come check it out myself sometime."
April cocked her head, not able to figure out if she was serious or not. "Anytime," she said, finally.
"How long have you known that Luke was your father?" Emily asked abruptly.
"Almost a year." April looked down at her feet and watched her toes make patterns in the wood shavings there. "I didn't do it to make trouble, you know," she suddenly found herself blurting out. "It had never bothered me at all that I didn't have a dad. But it just came to me one night that I had this really kick-ass idea for a science fair project that'd knock that smug look right off Samuel Polotsky's face. I didn't think that it would upset anybody, or change anybody's life." She scrunched her hands up into fists, making herself fully confess. "I guess I was just selfish," she muttered.
When she finally looked up, Emily was staring at her, contemplating. "Everyone wants to know who their family is," she said. "I'm sure that Luke is glad that you found him." She thought a little more. "Your mother is probably relieved that she doesn't have to keep that secret from you anymore."
April thought about that, and nodded. "Actually, it's all turned out really good. Mom's even starting to date."
Emily's eyebrows rose. "Your mother hadn't dated before?"
"Not really. But she let one of her girlfriends set her up last week. She got so nervous," April revealed. "She even called up Lorelai for shoe advice."
"She called Lorelai?"
"Yeah, they're like friends now," April explained earnestly.
Emily stared at her so hard and for so long that April couldn't help but fidget. "Your life has had a lot of changes during this past year," Emily finally observed.
April chuckled at that. "Yep. It used to be just me and my Mom, and sometimes my grandmother. Now I've got a dad, and a stepmom, and a stepsister, and pretty soon I'll have a new baby stepbrother or stepsister, too. And I guess…" She suddenly felt shy, but she forced her thought out. "I guess I sort of have a new grandmother and grandfather, too." She looked at Emily hopefully.
Emily drew in a breath and stood a little taller, but before she could answer they heard the front door crash open downstairs. Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs and they heard Tom let loose a torrent of curse words.
Luke marched into the new construction area with purpose. He looked very authoritative in the dark suit that had been put on grudgingly for his meeting at the bank. In two strides he was beside his daughter, his arm around her protectively as he turned to face down Emily Gilmore.
"Everything OK here?" he asked curtly.
"Sure, Dad." April shrugged under his arm.
"We were just admiring the new space," Emily told him.
April watched her dad stare at Emily, as though he was trying to gauge the sincerity of her words.
"This will be very nice," Emily added. "It's small of course, but this space will be nice, for the baby. And for April."
April felt her Dad's grip on her shoulder relax a little bit. "We think it will be perfect," he said, and she could hear just a touch of a challenge in his voice.
"I think so too," Emily replied.
"We need to get you back," Luke said to April, although he was still looking at Emily. "Your mom'll be at the diner soon. Head down to the truck."
The three of them trooped down the stairs. At the door, Luke called out to Tom that they were leaving.
"Yeah, that breaks my heart," Tom replied from somewhere in the house.
April was nearly to the truck when she heard Emily say her dad's name. She paused and looked back.
Emily's posture was confident, but there was something in her face that made April think she didn't really feel that way. "Luke, I was wondering…" she trailed off, shook herself, and started again. "When can you bring April to Friday night dinner?" she asked firmly.
Her Dad looked alarmed. "That would depend on her mom, I guess," he hedged.
Emily's chin jutted out in the way that made April think she was used to getting her way a lot. "If Friday doesn't work, we could make it another night. But I think that Richard needs to meet his granddaughter, don't you?"
There was a long pause, and April could feel her Dad weighing his options. At last he glanced down at her. "What do you think, April? Would you like to see where Lorelai grew up and meet her dad?"
April nodded seriously at Emily. "Yeah, I would."
"We'll talk to Anna and let you know," Luke said.
"Very well. I'll look forward to it." Emily replied, moving to get into her car. "Thank you, April, for bringing me over here. I appreciated your insights."
"You're welcome," April told her, secretly delighted at the baffled look her Dad was giving her.
Right before they pulled up in front of the diner, she elbowed him in the side. "That," she told him with pride, "is the way you handle Emily Gilmore."
October 2, 2006
Somehow they'd managed to oversleep, and even though Luke knew that the diner was in Caesar's capable hands, he was rushing to get himself clothed and down the stairs.
He was stuffing his wallet in his back pocket, ready to slam his hat on his head, when Lorelai appeared in front of him, spinning around to show off a new russet-colored blouse to its best advantage.
"What do you think?"
"I think I'm late." Luke reached out to grab her around the waist, attempting to move her out of his way.
"No," she pouted. "I mean, about this!" She twirled again.
"It's cute," he said automatically, still going through his getting-ready checklist in his mind.
"Luke!" she complained. She pulled the material out away from her stomach. "Do you think I dare wear this?"
He glanced at her again, frowning. "Why not? It looks great on you."
"But," she sighed then, dramatically. "If I wear this, everyone will know."
"Know what?"
"That I'm pregnant!" she said, frustrated at his denseness. "This is an actual maternity top. All of my normal stuff is starting to not fit me."
He shook his head and took the time to actually look at her. He stepped closer to her and pulled her over to him, letting his other hand lightly mold against her slight roundness. "You look great," he said gruffly, and kissed her cheek. "But you don't need to worry. Nobody's gonna guess you're pregnant yet." He caressed her a little more before briskly setting her aside. "Now, I've got to get downstairs."
He hurried away, not noticing her look of disappointment.
Later, after at least a dozen orders of pancakes and untold cups of coffee and one fried-egg sandwich cut into diamonds for Kirk, Luke took a second to check on his wife. "You good? You need anything else?" he asked her, as tenderly as he could with half the town in attendance.
"Yeah, I'm good," she sighed, easing herself down off the stool.
"You heading to work now?" he asked, starting to clear her spot.
She nodded, and then looked at him with a strained smile. "And I guess you were right," she said sadly. "No one noticed." She pointed forlornly at her stomach, shrugging slightly as she started to turn away.
Mentally, Luke slapped himself once again. Finally, he got it. She wanted people to know. She was ready to tell the town their news.
His hand reached out to grasp at hers. "Wait," he ordered, as she looked at him in confusion.
Resigned, he hurried out from behind the counter, reaching for her, watching her face open in surprise. He turned her so that her profile could be best seen by the table occupied by Miss Patty and Babette, and then he dipped her back over his arm slightly as he kissed her, making sure that his hand pulled the excess material of her top tightly over her barely distended belly.
The first voice he heard was not the one he expected.
"Lorelai!" It was Gypsy's accent that cut through all of the conversations in the diner, making everyone else stop and look. "Girl! You got somethin' goin' on under your hood?"
He brought her upright and then released her, watching as her look of shock turned into a delighted smile. He winked at her and then stepped back when a crowd of excited townsfolk surrounded them. He accepted congratulations, several pats on the back, one celebratory pinch from Patty, and his wife's silently mouthed 'thank you' before he managed to slip away to the kitchen, safe from the mayhem.
"How about we trade?" Luke asked, jerking his shoulder at Caesar's place at the grill.
"Anything for you, Papa!" Caesar said, enfolding him in a big bear hug, overriding Luke's protests.
Luke brushed off Caesar's well wishes and turned to finish up the orders cooking on the grill, but he couldn't brush off the smile that was splitting his face as he listened to all of the happy voices out in the diner.
October 23, 2006
Lorelai was so focused on everything she needed to do today to get them moved back into their house that she didn't even notice that Luke had stopped the truck.
"Oh," she said, embarrassed that she'd been so distracted, and moved to open the door.
Luke lunged for her. "We're not there," he said nervously. "Yet."
She looked around then, disoriented, and saw that Luke had pulled over just before turning onto their street. "What's wrong?" she asked, feeling pinpricks of worry stabbing her all over.
"Nothing," he said in a way that made her worry more than ever. He tried to smile reassuringly, which made it even worse.
"Luke!" she threatened.
"Look," he said grimly. "I was supposed to find a way to do this, OK? But I'm no good at this stuff. So here's what we're gonna do: Close your eyes." His voice was demanding and pleading at the same time.
She stared at him in disbelief. Then she laughed. "What?"
"Close your eyes." He sighed, knowing he was no match for her. "Just do it. Please, Lorelai?"
It irritated her that she couldn't figure out what was going on, and it worried her that possibly he'd done something to the outside of the house that she wouldn't like. But she dismissed that idea at once, since she'd just been there on final inspection last night and everything was fine then. She stared at his currently glum face, which she loved so much, and decided that she could humor him just this once. She grinned and obediently shut her eyes.
She heard him sigh in relief and felt the truck lurch around the corner. In no time she felt him pull the truck into the drive and turn off the motor.
His hand rested perfectly on her thigh, and she shivered, sensing his warmth. "Open 'em," he told her, his voice laced with a twinge of excitement.
She blinked them open and felt her mouth drop open in surprise. Blue and pink streamers cascaded all over the porch. A huge sign proclaimed in gold sparkly letters "Welcome Home Lorelai, Luke & Baby Danes!" Cars were parked everywhere and friends, neighbors, and co-workers could be seen scurrying up and down the stairs.
"What's going on?" she asked, overwhelmed.
Babette suddenly appeared at her side of the truck and opened the door, trying to tug Lorelai out. "Welcome home, Sugar!" she crowed.
Lorelai returned her hug, still feeling dazed. "What is all this, Babette?"
"Well, it's your baby shower," Babette proclaimed.
"What?" Lorelai looked at Luke.
"Well, it's not really a shower like you'd normally have," Babette started to explain, drawing Lorelai towards the house. "But we figured you could really use some help now to get settled back into the house, so we thought we'd arrange this and celebrate the baby comin', and later, when the little darlin' actually gets here, we'll celebrate again!" Her blonde curls bobbed enthusiastically.
As soon as she stepped through the door Lorelai could feel the energy vibrating through the house. Mrs. Skinner waved at her gaily as she ran the sweeper in the living room. Reverend Skinner was using a dustcloth on all of the pictures and knickknacks on the mantel. In the kitchen she found Liz and TJ washing dishes. April was wiping down the stairs and Lorelai took a moment to hug her as she went by. She peeked into their bedroom and saw that Patty and Sookie were putting fresh sheets on their bed. She followed the music of Culture Club to the baby's room.
Her eyes glowed with happiness when she saw that the beadboard on the bottom half of the walls had already been painted white, and that Andrew and Kirk were nearly halfway done with getting the light green paint on the rest of the walls.
Apparently something about the way she was standing there unnerved them, and they both slowly stopped painting and turned to her.
"Um, Lorelai, hi," Andrew said with apprehension in his voice. "We were told…I mean, we thought…Luke said…"
"Luke told us to paint it this color," Kirk said with authority, meeting her gaze.
"It's perfect," she told them, beaming. She felt happy tears starting to brim her eyes, and before they could fall and totally freak out the two painters she rushed into the room, hugging them both in gratitude.
The next few hours sped by as Lorelai directed and ordered and laughed. People were constantly pushing her down into chairs and propping her feet up on whatever was handy. Pregnancy stories were loudly shared. Drinks and cookies and brownies were pressed into her hands as she looked around at the whirlwind of activity and felt blessed and loved and totally, totally happy.
Luke met her eyes on one his trips upstairs with boxes and she tired to beam to him how happy she was; how grateful and how thankful she was. He raised his chin slightly and his lips quirked in that way he had, and she was pretty sure he knew exactly what she was feeling.
Everything was going quite smoothly until the moment April appeared at her side, her eyes wide with worry in a way that Lorelai had never seen.
Lorelai's legs came down off a packing box at once. "What's wrong?" she asked.
April licked her lips and looked hesitantly over her shoulder. "Emily's here," she revealed.
Lorelai shot up out of the chair. "Oh, Lord!" she breathed out, praying for the best. Resolutely she headed for the door, even more worried when she realized that April had chosen not to follow her.
"Hi, Mom," she said in greeting, crossing under the wind-blown streamers on the porch. With increasing dismay she noted that her mother was dressed in what she surely thought were good moving day clothes, which consisted of black dress slacks, a chocolate brown silk blouse, and a gray cardigan. Lorelai contrasted that with her own ensemble of old jeans, one of Luke's shirts over her now too-tight t-shirt, and a bandana holding back her curls. "What are you doing here?"
Emily snorted. "What am I doing here?" she mocked. She threw her arms out beside her and Lorelai noticed that a whole legion of men and a few women were massing in a squadron there, painters and moving men and maybe even stone masons, for all she knew. "You told me you were moving in today," Emily fumed.
"Yeah, we are," she agreed, smiling nervously. She pointed back at the streamers and the sign. "The town sort of surprised us with a baby shower/moving in party." She drew in a deep breath and looked at the workforce beside her mother. "Sorry," she said to them, "but everything's pretty much done. You're not needed."
Emily dismissed everyone with a flick of her wrist. "Submit your bills to me by Monday," she instructed them. "Goodbye, Lorelai," she said coldly, turning to find her car.
Lorelai tried to press back the frustration she always felt when dealing with her mother. She looked heavenward, hoping that maybe having a minister and a rabbi currently inside the house might tip things over into her favor for once.
"Mom, wait," she said, sighing deeply. When Emily didn't stop, Lorelai hurried down the steps. "Mom, you came clear out here. Don't you want to see how the house turned out?"
Emily stopped but didn't turn around. Lorelai approached her cautiously. "Mom?"
Her heart clenched when her mother turned and Lorelai could see how hard she was struggling to hold back tears. "I just don't understand why you will never let me help!" Emily's breath was ragged, and for once she just couldn't seem to stop the honest words from coming out. "Even when you were a little girl, just four years old, you wouldn't let me help you dress your Barbie! You'd sit on the floor with that damned stubborn look on your face, insisting on tearing your doll limb from limb rather than let me help you with it! All these years, and nothing's changed! Why is it so hard for you to let me help you?"
Lorelai's instinct was to hug her mother, the way she normally would hug Rory or April if they were in distress. But this was her mother, and Emily had never encouraged hugs, but rather had always seemed to disdain any display of affection, so she stood close by instead and hugged Luke's shirt around her for protection and guidance.
She let a few moments of silence go by while Emily gulped for control. "Mom," she said finally, her voice gentle, "if I'd let you help me dress Malibu Barbie, would you have let me put her in her disco dancing dress?"
"That tacky outfit was the only thing you ever dressed that poor doll in," Emily huffed. "It wouldn't have killed you to put her in a ballgown every once in a while."
Lorelai was quiet again for a moment. "I think we have our answer," she pointed out.
Emily angrily whirled her arms around at the commotion of people and vehicles. "You let them all help!" she hissed.
"But they aren't trying to take over. Were you going to let me paint the baby's room green?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
Emily bit her tongue for a moment. "I picked out a beautiful pale yellow," she finally admitted.
Lorelai sighed and counted to ten. Several times. She crossed her fingers and hoped for the best. "I'd let you help if I trusted you to listen to what I want. But you always think that you know best. You never hear what I'm telling you."
Emily scoffed at her daughter. "And how do you think I feel? Why does everything have to be such a struggle with you? Why can't you ever listen to any of my ideas? It might be that I have something of worth to offer you!"
Lorelai focused off into the distance, absently stroking the soft flannel covering her arms. "You and Dad made it possible for us to get the house ready for the baby, and Luke and I are so grateful for that. And the way you've welcomed April into your home and into the family…Well, Luke would probably do anything you'd ask him to right now. He's incredibly touched. We both are. And when you do those things, it just shows me that we are capable of having this wonderful, adult relationship. I don't want to keep fighting with you, Mom." Lorelai turned and faced her mother, putting it all on the line. "Isn't there some way that we can figure out how to listen to each other?"
Clouds now covered the sky and the air temperature had cooled. Lorelai noticed her mother pulling the sleeves of her cardigan down over her hands. "I wish you would just hear me out sometimes, Lorelai, before you automatically dismiss what I'm saying. I feel like you completely shut me out." Emily swallowed hard. "It hurt when you were a child. It hurt when you left with Rory. And it hurts now."
Lorelai nodded, accepting her mother's feelings. "And I think that since I left home at 17, that's how you still see me. You don't trust my opinions as an adult because you didn't see me grow up. You need to accept that I know what I'm doing. You need to believe that I'm happy with my life just the way it is."
"You've made so many mistakes."
"Yes, I have," Lorelai admitted easily. "But I've learned from them. Good things have happened to me, Mom. It hasn't been all bad."
Emily sighed, her glance backwards taking in the decorated house full of friends. "I guess that's true," she had to concede.
"So," Lorelai said, "how about if I try harder to listen to you, and you try harder to trust the decisions I make?"
She could see Emily wavering, the hard exterior that she always kept visible to the world starting to soften. "Will you let me help you sometimes?"
"I'll tell you what. I'll even ask you for help, as long as you promise to not sneak behind my back and try to do things your own way." Lorelai stuck out her hand. "Deal?"
Her mother thought it over before offering her own hand. "Deal," she agreed.
Lorelai shivered, rubbing Emily's cold hand. "Come on. It's freezing out here, Mom. Come in and see the house. Meet our friends. And…April's here!" she said, as a final enticement.
"All right. For just a minute," Emily conceded.
Lorelai turned towards the house, smiling, and led her mother inside.
October 31, 2006
"Come on, Luke! We're married now! You have to do Halloween with me!"
"Huh. I must've dozed off during the vows. I do not remember pledging to trick or treat together," he said, pulling on his boots to go back to the diner.
"It was there, I'm sure of it. You just don't remember. I'll call Sondra right now if you want me to. I'm sure she'll back me up."
"Lorelai, I gave Caesar the night off to go to his sister's party, and everyone else wants to go to Patty's." He knew she knew that. They'd been over it a hundred times in the last few weeks.
"You let me pull sausages out of you last year," she pouted.
He walked over and gave her a hug, even though she resisted him. "That's because you were sad last year," he reminded her softly. "I'm glad you're not sad this Halloween."
"No, I'm not sad this year," she said, sharply. "This year I'm mad because my husband won't do Halloween with me! Come on, Luke," she tried to coax him. "Just close the diner. How much business do you do on Halloween, anyway?"
"People like to stop in after the kids are done with trick or treating. Or they like to stop before they head to Patty's. I don't mind staying open for them."
"No, you don't mind doing that for them! You don't want to disappoint your customers! Disappointing your wife, though, that's another story!"
Luke started to walk to the door. "Lorelai, I'm tired of this discussion. I'm tired of arguing with you. I'm not closing the diner; I'm not staying here with you; I'm not dressing up. If you want to come over and see me after you've passed out all the candy―or eaten all of the candy, whichever comes first―I'll be happy to walk over to Patty's with you for a little bit. That is, if you dare to walk outside dressed like that." He cast a critical eye over her getup again. "What are you supposed to be again?"
"Luke" she whined in exasperation. She pointed to her lacy fingerless gloves and the dozen or so crucifixes hanging around her neck. She'd even found a frizzy blonde wig. "Madonna, Luke! You know, Like a Virgin?" She pointed to the pillow she'd attached to her middle. "See, Like a Virgin, only I'm obviously knocked up! Get it?"
Luke sighed and shook his head. "I'll save you a piece of pie," he said, his hand reaching for the door.
"Are you telling me that you're actually going to go―"
When she cut off her sentence so abruptly Luke turned to see why and anxiety hit him right in the gut. Lorelai was standing absolutely still, tensed as though she was listening to something only she could hear.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice vibrating with fear. He tried to look past the ridiculous wig and the painted on beauty mark to see the real Lorelai.
She held up her hand, shushing him, still breathlessly contemplating something apparently wondrous, judging by the look on her face.
He grabbed her elbows. "Don't shush me!" he threatened. "What's wrong?"
She looked at him then, her angelic smile totally at odds with her outfit. "Nothing's wrong," she assured him. She reached under her lacy skirt and pulled out the pillow, then swiftly grabbed his hand and pressed it to her real baby bump. "The baby's kicking. Harder this time. I think you might be able to―There! Did you feel that?" She looked at him triumphantly.
He found he couldn't answer. A miracle had just kicked at his hand.
He cleared his throat and kept his hand pressed into her, scared to breathe lest he disturb the little being that was so gently and rhythmically kicking at his hand. Finally the little pushes stopped when the baby either moved or had grown tired of putting on a show. He feathered his lips against Lorelai's forehead, unable to even whisper a response for a very long time.
"Wow," was all he could say when his voice finally came back.
"I know! Cool, huh?" she cried out, delighted. She'd thrown her arms around his neck when he first pressed against her, and now she hugged him, hard. "That was a lot more definite than the little Q-Tip pokes I'd been feeling. Lil' Peanut's getting stronger!" She swayed back and forth as she hugged him. "I'm so glad you were here to feel that!"
He felt his mouth moving as he tried to think of some words―any words―that would adequately describe the elation he was experiencing, but before he could even try the doorbell rang.
Lorelai gave him a quick, excited kiss and opened the door.
Of course it was the Banyan boys. They always jumped the gun on the official trick or treating hours.
This year they were dressed as pirates. "Trick'r'treat," the oldest one mumbled, and all three of them held out the dingy pillowcases they were using to collect their loot.
Lorelai quickly dropped a generous amount of candy into each of their bags and they fled to the next house. She kept the door open and looked at Luke. "You'd better get going," she told him, rubbing his arm affectionately.
"I…I don't really need to go," he blurted out. "I'd rather stay here with you."
"No, you need to go," she told him. "You're right about staying open. Stopping at the diner is a Halloween tradition for a lot of families. I know that. I was just being a brat before. Go," she told him, smiling.
He stared at her beautiful, angelic smile and thought that she looked a lot more like the real Madonna, not the one who wore her underwear on the outside of her clothes.
"I don't want to go," he complained, clinging to her in full sight of the trick-or-treaters dashing down the street.
She laughed at him then, pushing him playfully away from her. "It's OK, Luke. Go. I'll come by after I get done here." She leaned forward, whispering to him. "And I'll let you feel me up all you want to." She looked down, pointedly, and he saw that his hand was once again pressed to her belly.
He pulled his hand away reluctantly and started slowly down the steps. "All right," he grumbled. Once he was on the ground he turned back to say one more thing.
"I'll be careful," she said, beating him to his traditional warning. "I won't even wear the boots," she promised, pointing to the short white ones with the spiky heels she'd found for tonight. "I'll wear my Working Girl sneakers instead."
"I'll see you a little later," he said, wondering how in the world people could just go on and do their everyday things when life was full of such incredible joys. "You'd better get your stomach back in place," he advised, motioning to a group of very short cheerleaders heading their way.
"Thanks, Babe," Lorelai said, and turned away to quickly tuck the pillow back under her skirt. Luke listened to her voice exclaiming over the cheerleaders as the little girls giggled. He walked down the street, every now and then examining his hand where he still could feel the baby's little kicks.
November 22, 2006
"I don't know why I do this every year," Luke complained.
"You do it because you love it and you wouldn't have it any other way," Lorelai told him.
"I'm exhausted," he groaned. "And tomorrow will just be worse. And Friday I'll have to be up at the crack of dawn for all of the crazy shoppers going out to find Tickle Me Elmos."
"Poor baby," Lorelai commiserated. "Com'ere." She plopped herself down on the couch and motioned for him to put his head on her lap.
He sighed tiredly and stretched out on the couch, using what was left of her lap for a pillow. She instantly started to stroke his neck and shoulders, rubbing the tension out of them. He sighed again, but this time it was for pleasure.
"I know you're tired, but you love doing the Thanksgiving thing," Lorelai murmured to him soothingly. She turned on the TV and found the station showing the Garfield and Charlie Brown Thanksgiving specials. "And this year's going to be great. Rory'll be here, and she's bringing Paris along, and you just know that's going to be a good time. And Jess is coming, and I have to admit, I'm even looking forward to seeing him. Liz and TJ will be there." She stopped rubbing a moment as she frowned. "I'm a little worried about what my mother might say to Anna, but I figure Anna can hold her own, and April will be on guard."
"Mmm," Luke agreed, starting to doze off. He relaxed against Lorelai, loving the feel of little feet or hands shoving against the back of his head as Lorelai rubbed his shoulder and neck. Eventually the movements against his head became little rhythmic bounces and he knew that the baby had the hiccups. He smiled, letting himself drift off as Lorelai softly sang and repeated the dialogue along with the cartoon characters on the screen.
He wasn't exactly asleep but he wasn't awake either, when a commercial came on and he heard someone say 'Christopher.' The name hit him like a shot and his body jerked, trying to get away from it and all of the bad memories it dredged up. Lorelai gently soothed him, and he realized he hadn't thought of Christopher Hayden in a very long time, not even as Rory's father. He hadn't thought of him nor the tragedy he'd nearly caused for months now. He didn't start the day thinking about what had happened back in May or the heartbreak they'd endured. He didn't think about it at all anymore.
The show came back on and his ears picked up a little of the dialogue. Gratitude, they were talking about. What they were grateful for.
Lorelai, he thought at once. I'm grateful for Lorelai, and this baby, and this home. I'm grateful that April decided to find me. I'm grateful that Rory is finally really my daughter. But mostly it's Lorelai. Without her, I wouldn't have anything else. I'm grateful that she forgave me and gave me a second chance.
And suddenly he realized how often he'd been irritated at Lorelai over the years; angry at her, furious even, for giving Christopher a another chance, time after time after time. He remembered thinking she was foolish for going back to her parents' house, trying yet one more time to reconcile with them. He thought about how she'd welcomed Rory back so joyfully, even when the girl had broken her heart. With a start he realized that it was Lorelai's boundless forgiveness, her ability to always be generous with second chances, that made up a large part of her character. She understood what it was like to make mistakes. She understood how important it was to be forgiven.
Cold, breathtaking fear, the stuff found in nightmares, seeped into him as he finally comprehended how close he'd been to losing everything he was now so grateful for. If Lorelai hadn't been who she was, she would have turned her back on him. She'd never have given him a second chance. Without her there'd be no baby; no home.
There would have been no forgiveness.
There'd be no love. No warmth. No happiness.
His heart pounded in fear as he clutched at her legs, still half-asleep and drenched with terror.
He slowly became aware that the TV was muted and that Lorelai was shaking him. He gulped in some air, trying to dislodge the clinging fear. He turned in her lap, looking up at her worried face.
"Tell me what it is," she begged him. "Is it your heart? Are you in pain? Do you want me to call 911?"
He shook his head, trying to find some words. She bit her lip, looking panicked, and kept wiping his face. After a few moments he understood that she was wiping away his tears.
He blinked hard, several times, trying to get himself under control. He grabbed her hand and brought it his mouth, kissing it tenderly.
"Luke, tell me what's wrong," she begged him again, nearly crying herself.
He pushed himself up onto his knees beside her, enfolding her in his arms, straining her to him. "I love you," he choked out.
"I love you too," she said, bewildered, "but―"
"No," he said, easing his embrace enough that he could see her face. "I love you so much, Lorelai. I love everything about you. Even the things that drive me crazy. I love every bit of you. Do you understand?" He searched her expression, hoping she did, and then continued on slowly, trying to find the right words. "I wouldn't have things any other way. Even the bad things we've been through, we needed them, too. We wouldn't be here without them. We wouldn't be the same people without them. So I know it's crazy, but I'm grateful for the bad stuff, too. But mostly, Sweetheart, I'm grateful for you. I can't thank you enough…" His words choked off for a moment, and he looked down, fighting again for control. "Thank you for loving me."
She stared at him for a long time, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to sort through the landslide of words he'd sent over her. He could see that she was still scared to death that he'd had some sort of psychotic episode. He could sense that she was still contemplating calling in some medical help.
He shook his head and smiled at her, still blinking away some of the damned tears. "I'm OK," he croaked out, and gave her a kiss against her temple. "You've made me crazy from loving you, but I'm OK."
She smiled a little at that, and cuddled against him. "I'm crazy in love with you, too."
"Good," he sighed, and leaned up against her, letting his eyes sink closed. He put his arm around her to hold her close, letting his fingers slip through her hair that was silky straight today. He knew she didn't really understand the epiphany he'd just experienced, and right now he didn't have the strength to explain it to her any better.
But someday…Someday he'd come up with a way to make sure she knew what was in his heart.
A further note: When this chapter was first posted, I was taken to task concerning Lorelai's anger when she learned Luke had inadvertently tipped off Sookie about the pregnancy, because some readers felt her reaction to his slip was OTT. Well, as someone who had something very similar happen in real life, let me tell you, she was completely justified in feeling the way she did. I managed to hold my tongue, but believe me, I wanted to throw a fit so big that Lorelai's display would have paled in comparison. Letting Lorelai give voice to all of the things I wanted to yell about but didn't dare was very satisfying!
And apparently I love April. And Tom. Who knew?