Lover's Rock
Part III
She's reading. It's early and he's had the worst week—assignments due for three classes and a flat tire and a two-hour lunch with his mother—and all he wants is to relax. He wants dinner and a tumbler of whiskey. He wants to lie on a beach in LA. The family jet is always full of gas.
Rory is reading.
"We'll do sushi. There's a new restaurant in Stamford; Colin knows the owner. We can be there in an hour, let's go!"
"I've got dinner with my grandparents," she tells him, turning a page. "And I was going to spend the weekend in Stars Hollow."
"Ace."
"You can come, if you want. Grandma's new maid always makes these tiny portions so we're going to get burgers from Luke's after. And April's staying over, so you can finally meet her!"
"Are you sure we can all fit in your house?"
"They added a second bedroom during the remodel, but we can always stay at the diner."
He tries to imagine it, waking to the smell of pancakes and the sound of a dozen people he's only heard about in stories. He thinks about breakfast with her mother, at a table small enough that he could reach across it and touch her. His chest warms even as discomfort bubbles in his stomach. Because this is Lorelai; she'd probably bite his hand off.
"You don't have to," she says quickly, closing her book around her finger. "It's just, my therapist said it would be good for me to do the things I liked from before everything got…crazy."
"I understand." He plucks at the blanket that's spread beneath him on the sofa. "And this is what you'll be doing until we leave?"
"Reading."
"How about I meet you there?"
He rolls in to Stars Hollow at eight-thirty, parking next to the market. It's idyllic, the kind of place he's seen in pictures and old reruns of Leave It to Beaver, and it's hard to believe that Rory grew up here. That tiny bookstore couldn't possibly have Anais Nin. The nearest Starbucks is in Woodbury. But there she is in the diner, elbow-deep in a burger and fries.
"Hey!" she exclaims with her mouth full. Lorelai is sitting beside her; Luke is on the phone.
"How was dinner?" he asks, sliding on to a stool.
"Short. Mom and grandma got in to a fight. We only made it through the salad course."
"And you should be thanking me," Lorelai says. "The main was liver."
"Yeah, they should be heading out before Easter," Luke says as he nears, topping up Lorelai's coffee. "Well how should I know?…Hey, she's proud of you…I don't know, make him take himself for a walk…He's your stepfather…You got any magic pens? Send him for magic pens…Well, if your stalker gets him then isn't that a win-win?"
Rory nearly chokes on a fry. "He has a stalker?"
Luke shrugs. "Some guy name Clyde."
"Let me talk to him!"
Rory grabs the phone, tugging more slack in to the chord. "Two e-mails does not make a stalker!" she says, smiling through her outrage. Logan's heart jumps. "He likes your work…In a bar…He is not a psycho! Lane will back me up…Shut up…Well, if he stabs you in the shower you won't be around to say I told you so…Jess…Jess…Oh my god, bye!"
"What's the rebel with a cause doing now?" Lorelai asks as Rory hands the phone back.
"Being ridiculous."
"Next time, tell him his book is weird."
"You read it?"
"And it's weird."
He's sitting beside them but this might as well be the Huntzberger table, thirty feet of oak and floral arrangements isolating every guest. That was never difficult to work around (he's always been gregarious), but somehow this is. He can't find a place to jump in to the conversation. He's not sure they'd even notice if he tried.
He takes out his phone. "Hey Ace, look, I don't think I can stay. Colin's having some kind of crisis, and I've got…I've got to go."
"Oh," she says, concerned and sad and a little bit relieved, and he's having trouble deciphering why. Like she's a book that's changing language as he reads.
His heart pounds and he kisses her, hard. "I'll call you on Monday."
It takes everything in him not to run to his car.