Author's Notes: Yes, this has become a thing! Instead of a short story, "Mother's Day Special," it's morphed into a series. Hope you'll join me each month as we follow Luke and Lorelai through their first year of acquaintance, and watch as their mutual love of Rory causes the bond between the two of them to grow continually stronger. This month, June, is focused on Father's Day.

Thanks:

To Fish Bag, for suggesting we all try to write a Father's Day story.

To Eledgy, for allowing me to 'borrow' Ed Tallman from her current WIP, Variations in the Key of Luke. Even though our stories are taking place in separate universes, I love thinking that Ed is somehow in both of them!

To Mr. DFC, who patiently instructed me on woodworking techniques, complete with visual aids. Thanks, hon!

The Father's Day Project

"Hi, Luke."

The timid voice almost sounded as if it was coming out of the countertop. Luke looked up from his work, momentarily disoriented. The afternoon light filtering into the diner was so dim he could barely make out the bowed head of the brown-haired girl standing before him.

"Hi, Rory," he said, and his almost-friendly tone made her lift her head and smile at him. He glanced around the dining room. "Where's your mom?"

"She's got a headache, so she stayed home today. But it's OK. I've got permission to go by myself to the library."

Knowing that he wasn't going to have to spar with Lorelai Gilmore made him breathe easier, but her absence unexpectedly brought along a helping of disappointment, too. He ignored the conflicting sentiments and focused on his young customer.

"In case you didn't notice, this isn't the library," he pointed out to her, unable to completely suppress a grin.

Her smile grew brighter. "Yeah, I can tell that by the sad lack of reading materials in here. But since the diner is on the way to the library, I think I'm still basically following the rules."

"We might just have to agree to disagree about that," he said lightly, deciding it wasn't his place to teach her about truth and ethics. "Do you want something to eat?"

She shook her head, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

Luke studied her, wondering what was up. "Was there something you wanted?"

She nodded, still not looking at him.

He waited a few seconds, trying not to grow impatient. "Rory, if you want something, you've got to tell me what it is. I'm not a mind-reader."

She nodded again and bit at her bottom lip. "Um, I was hoping…that is, wondering…I kind of wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure." Luke shrugged. "Shoot."

"You mean right now?" Her eyes grew wide in panic.

"Yeah." He looked at her curiously. "Why, did you want to make an appointment and come back later?"

"No," she said slowly. "I guess… that would be silly." She sighed and appeared to gather up courage before turning and seating herself at a table a few feet away from the counter.

Luke didn't know whether to laugh or to beat his head against the counter. It had become increasingly apparent to him that his Mother's Day kindness had earned him a little friend. He assessed the current workload in the diner. A few tables were filled, but one of his waitresses, Jolene, was on top of their needs. He could surely spare a couple of minutes to find out what was troubling Rory.

He gathered his papers together and laid them out of the way at the end of the counter before joining Rory at the table she'd chosen. It felt odd to him, to pull out a chair and sit down. That was something he'd rarely done since the diner had opened. The diner looked strange from his seated perspective, and he studied the dining room with new eyes.

"What were you working on?" Rory asked, pointing at the papers he'd left on the counter.

Luke leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable. He linked his fingers over his stomach, taking the chance to relax. "I was thinking maybe it was time to add some new items to the menu, so I was going through some possible recipes, trying to figure out how much the ingredients would cost, and how long it would take us to make the dish back in the kitchen."

Rory's forehead crinkled up as she thought about what he'd said. "If you added new stuff, does that mean you'd have to take something else away?"

"Maybe. Not sure yet. Maybe I'd try them as specials first."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't want you to change the menu. It's good just the way it is."

Luke chuckled. "Yeah, that's probably the reaction I'd get from everybody else, too. Sometimes I get tired of frying boring old burgers, though. Sometimes I feel like trying something new."

Now Rory looked guilty. "Sorry. You should do it then," she urged, trying to be supportive. "Just don't get rid of the mac'n'cheese, OK?"

"Don't worry, I won't," he promised. "So what do you want to talk about?"

She blew out a huge breath and then scooted to the edge of her chair, preparing for what looked to be a most serious talk. "Do you remember on Mother's Day, when you asked me about my dad?"

"Sure." Tension began to gather in him for no discernible reason.

"Well, it made me think about him, and about how we haven't seen him in a really long time. So I talked to Mom about it, and she made some calls, and now we know where he is."

"Is that right," Luke murmured, trying hard to make his voice remain neutral.

"Yeah, it turns out he's not in Oregon after all. He's in New York, which, you know, isn't too far away from here."

"What kind of a –" Luke clenched his jaw, hard, stifling the comment he wanted desperately to make. It wasn't Rory's fault that her jackass of a father didn't even let his ex and little girl know where he was living. "Yeah, New York's not too far," he agreed through gritted teeth. "I hear they've got phones and everything there."

Rory nodded happily, his snide comment going right over her head. "So he's coming here for Father's Day, to see me!"

Luke pushed away his negative thoughts and instead concentrated on the shining blue eyes in the girlish face across the table from him. "That's great, Rory. I bet you guys will have a fun day."

The sparkle disappeared and she slumped down slightly. "But that's the problem. I don't know what we should do."

"Well, I'm sure your mom –"

"No Mom." Rory cut in. "She made that crystal clear on the phone to him. She said that this was his day with me, and she wasn't going to be involved with it. She told him it was time he interacted with his offspring on his own."

Luke tried to hide a smile as Rory repeated what she'd obviously overheard her mother say on the phone. He'd bet good money that had been a mighty interesting conversation.

"I was trying to come up with a Father's Day plan, but then I thought, hey, you're a guy."

"What gave me away? The baseball cap?" He put a hand on top of his head, smiling openly this time to let her know he was teasing her a bit.

She gave him a look that told him she was disappointed that he wasn't taking her serious talk seriously enough. "I thought you could give me some ideas about what guys like to do. Or you could tell me stuff that you usually did on Father's Day with your dad, maybe, when you were a kid."

A swift kaleidoscope of images swirled through Luke's head, of hospital rooms and x-rays and an endless parade of people in white coats. But none of that was anything that Rory needed to know about for years and years and years, or ever, please God. So he pushed back the most recent memories and searched for some from happier times.

"Well, let's see. My dad liked to fish, so we probably went fishing a time or two. Or went out and tossed a baseball around, while we waited for the grill to get hot enough to cook the steaks. Since I had a little sister, it wasn't usually all about what I wanted to do. We had to include her too."

Rory looked alarmed. "I don't know how to fish!"

"Oh, you don't have to –"

"Or play ball!" She twisted back and forth anxiously on her seat. "I'm not good at sports! I suck at hand-eye coordination!"

"Hey, hey." Luke leaned forward. "You don't have to do any of that stuff. That's just what my dad and I liked to do."

"But that's guy stuff, right? That's the sort of stuff guys like to do, and I want Dad to do something he likes to do, so he won't hate being here."

"He's not going to hate being here," Luke said sharply, disliking this unknown guy more with every sentence out of Rory's mouth. He tried to think of a way to calm her. "What do you usually do together?"

She looked at him blankly.

"What did you do the last time you saw him?" Luke asked, trying to jog her memory.

"We ate at a fancy restaurant, I think." Her forehead puckered under the strain. "But I think mostly he just talked to Mom."

"Uh huh," Luke muttered. He could have guessed that.

"One time he took us to a concert, but we left because Mom got mad. She said it was too loud for me."

"Right." Luke drummed his fingers against the table. He sat up straighter, having a sudden breakthrough. "What about the last time he was here? What did you guys do that time?"

Rory shook her head. "He's never been here before. That's one of the reasons why I want this day to be fun for him, so he'll want to come back again, even if it isn't Father's Day."

"He's never been here?" Luke was confused, thinking he must have gotten some facts wrong. "How long have you lived in Stars Hollow?"

"Mom moved us here when I was one." Rory confirmed the facts as Luke had heard them.

"And he's never been here?" The accusatory words broke out of him before he could temper his outrage. "Why the - why not?"

"Um, I don't know." She looked at him with concern, seemingly trying to judge his mood. "We just usually went to see him." She paused a little bit. "When he lived close enough," she added.

Once again he tried to reel in his desire to verbally stomp this guy into the ground. "Look, Rory, he's the adult here. It's up to him to take care of you when he's with you. He's the one who should have the plan. You don't have to have it all figured out."

"Maybe, but that's the way I am. I like to have a plan. In fact, most of the time I like to have two plans, in case the first one doesn't work out." The smile she gave him was both plucky and unassuming , sort of like she was making fun of herself while trying to give him the message that however strange the relationship with her father was, it was all OK with her.

Geez, she's a great kid. The thought popped up in his brain, unbidden and practically aglow in bright neon letters, making Luke shake his head at his unaccustomed sentimentality.

"How about this?" he suggested. "You play tour guide for the day. Show him the town. Take him to your school, and to the library, or anywhere else you go all the time. Heck, take him to Doose's, and Taylor will talk his leg off. That will be a good way for him to catch up on what's going on in your life. Maybe you could even watch a movie at the bookstore, or something. They usually show something family-friendly on Sundays."

Rory perked up immediately. "Wow, that's a great idea! I could take him to Kim's and introduce him to Lane. We could take a tour of the porcelain unicorn shops. And we could even come here!"

Luke frowned. "Why?"

She was really excited now, bouncing a little bit in the chair. "After I've shown him everything else, we could come here and get something to eat."

"Oh, well, uh, sure. I guess." He couldn't work up much enthusiasm for the idea, in spite of Rory's excitement. In fact, he was pretty sure that being in the same room with her absentee father was a recipe for disaster.

"Cool. Do I need to reserve a table?" she asked earnestly.

"I doubt there will be that much of a crowd."

She looked at him worriedly, chewing on her thumb, her anxiety-ridden blue eyes almost breaking his heart.

"Fine." He couldn't believe he was doing this. "I'll make sure there's a table for you and your dad on Father's Day."

"Thank you!" She let out a big breath of relief. "I'm so glad I came to you about this. I feel so much better now."

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, wishing he could say the same. "Now that your problem's solved, are you hungry?"

"Nope!" She jumped out of the chair. "I'd better run to the library and get back home before Mom starts to worry." She pushed the chair back underneath the table, waved at him, and then skittered out the door.

Luke got up, pushing his chair in as well. He took another moment to look around his diner, transitioning from being Rory's adviser to restaurant owner. Soon he was back behind the counter, dealing with the first of the evening's customers. Before too long, Rory's MIA father was as absent from Luke's mind as the guy himself was from Rory's life.

The dad stayed forgotten until a Saturday afternoon two weeks later, when Luke once again found Rory standing before the counter. And the only reason he thought of him then was because she brought him up.

"Everything's ready for tomorrow, right?" she asked him, worry overlaying her serious little face.

"Tomorrow?" he asked blankly.

"Tomorrow!" she insisted. "Father's Day," she prompted him.

He stared at her for about a second too long, causing her to shift from one foot to another and look at him reproachfully. "Luke! It's Father's Day. You promised me!"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure," he mumbled, trying to fit the pieces together.

"You'll have a table for me and my dad, right?" she questioned him anxiously.

"Sure. Of course. No problem." He threw out the reassuring phrases mindlessly, wanting the distressed look on her face to go away. He flung out an arm, pointing at a table. "That one, right there. OK?"

She visibly relaxed, following his arm. "Oh, yeah, that's fine." Almost instantly she frowned again, looking apologetic this time. "I don't know exactly when we'll get here, though. Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not. It's your table for the whole day, Rory. It doesn't matter when you get here."

She sighed, as if the weight of the world was all on her fragile little shoulders. "Thanks for helping me with this. I just really want the day to be a perfect one, you know?"

Suddenly that was all Luke wanted for her, too. "It will be, Rory. I'm sure it will."

"OK," she sighed again, before taking a breath and gracing him with a big smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," he agreed, watching as she hustled to the door. He was surprised to see that Lorelai was waiting for her there. He'd been so focused on Rory he hadn't even noticed her mom.

Lorelai pushed back Rory's hair, letting her hand linger on the girl's face for a moment before opening the door. Rory hopped outside, but Lorelai unexpectedly turned back. Her eyes sought out Luke's, connecting solidly with him when their gazes met. So far he'd only ever seen her smiling and silly, her mouth running through more words in a few minutes than he even thought of in a day. Seeing her standing there, still and thoughtful, was a revelation. She held his eyes, communicating more to him through that pensive stare than anyone else had said to him in years. A smile, one he thought appeared sad, turned her pretty lips up briefly. She nodded quickly to him and then exited behind her daughter.

Luke found himself frozen in place, long after the door had closed behind the Gilmore girls. He shook himself out from under the spell woven by the mother, and prayed that he wouldn't disappoint the faith of the daughter.

Afterwards, he couldn't get Rory's apprehensive face out of his mind. But even so, she was quiet enough that she managed to sneak up on him yet again, sometime after 2 o'clock the next afternoon.

"Hi," she whispered, standing this time off to the side of the counter.

"Hey, Rory!" he greeted her, probably too enthusiastically. He tried to look unobtrusively around the diner, searching for the undeserving dad. "Ready for your table?"

She visibly gulped. "No," she said miserably. "I'm not going to need it after all."

"Why not?" He positioned his elbows on the counter and leaned over, the better to smile at Rory. "Did you guys find something more fun to do?"

"No." She scratched at her nose and then looked down at her feet. "He's not coming," she admitted.

"You mean he's not here yet," Luke speculated, unable to accept what she'd just said.

"No, I mean…he's not coming at all." She took off the blue plastic headband holding back her straight brown hair, tossed her head, and then replaced the headband. "He called a little bit ago, said something came up and he couldn't make it today after all. I just wanted you to know, so you wouldn't waste the table." Despondently she turned towards the door.

"I'll bet your mom will come up with something fun for the two of you to do today," Luke threw out a little desperately, hoping that something would happen to put a smile back on her face.

She paused and looked back at him. "No. Mom's at work." She wrung her hands together, now appearing worried on top of her disappointment. "She waited at the house for as long as she could, but she had to get there in time for her shift. She tried to call Dad, but when he didn't answer we thought he was just running late."

"Your mom's at the Inn?" Luke came out from the counter and walked closer to Rory. "What are you going to do?" He realized suddenly that he didn't even know how old Rory was. Was she old enough to stay home alone? How old did kids have to be before they could stay home alone, anyway? "Do you have someplace to go?" Luke asked her, feeling inadequate.

"Well, I thought maybe Lane's…" Her eyes drifted to the other side of the square, visible through the front window. "But then I remembered they're at a church thing all day today." She scratched at her nose again, which Luke now recognized was a nervous habit. Her eyes shifted, following the street out of town, the one which eventually led to the Independence Inn.

"No, you can't," Luke said firmly, reading her mind. It didn't matter that he had traveled there on his own many times when he was young. He'd had a bike, he was a boy, and…well, things were different then. "It's too far," he added, trying to come up with some other reason to convince her besides bringing up scary predators.

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't know then. I guess I'll just go back home. It'll be fine. I'll read or something."

"Maybe I could run you out there," Luke blurted.

Instantly, Rory turned grateful eyes to him. "Are you sure? Don't you need to be here when the diner's open?"

"It should be fine," he told her airily, waving a hand to encompass the space, which was currently boasting more staff than patrons. "Why don't I go call your mom and make sure that's OK with her?"

Rory nodded and he motioned for her to take a seat. He went to the phone on the wall behind the counter, pulling the Inn's number from somewhere out of his memory. The phone was promptly answered.

"Independence Inn. This is Lorelai." The pleasant, professionally friendly voice took him by surprise.

"Uh, yeah, hi Lorelai, this is Luke. Luke Danes, from the diner?"

"Oh?" she said, in a sort of lilting, teasing tone, making him feel like he was missing something obvious already. "What can I help you with, Duke from the diner?"

He turned so that his back was towards Rory. "I wanted to let you know that Rory is here. Alone. Her father didn't show."

"What," she said flatly, the teasing gone. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's not here. He called her, I guess, and said he couldn't make it."

There were a few moments of deadly silence. Then Lorelai let loose with a string of curses. Luke was impressed with her creativity and in total agreement with her colorfully expressed sentiments. Suddenly she gasped, cutting off in mid-curse. "Oh, crap. Crappity, crap, crap. Did Rory just hear all of that?"

Luke glanced over his shoulder. "No, she's on the other side of the diner."

Lorelai sighed gustily. "I'm gonna kill him. This time, I'm really gonna do it. I knew it! I knew! I knew I shouldn't have left her there, waiting for him. I knew he'd screw this up today. Damn it, Christopher! Why can't you ever follow through?"

Christopher. Luke filed the name away and waited, letting her settle down.

She exhaled noisily again. "OK. Let me think how to solve this. Dang. I can't come right now - I'm the only one on desk. Maybe once Sookie finishes lunch – or maybe I could grab Eric or Sean or one of the other porters and ask them – or maybe I could call –"

"Or I could run her out to you," Luke cut in, getting to why he was calling.

His offer brought her rambling to a stop. "Are you sure? I hate to inconvenience you."

"Not a problem." An idea that had been brewing somewhere in the back of his mind suddenly became substantial enough to talk about. "I was sort of wondering, though, would it be OK if I maybe took her to do something kind of fun before I brought her out to the Inn?"

There was that potent silence again. "You like the kiddies, huh?" Lorelai at last asked lightly, but with a scathing undercurrent.

Anger made him grip the phone tighter. He turned another few inches away, not wanting Rory to hear one word, and dropped his voice down into a gruff rumble. "No, actually, I don't. In my experience, kids are generally rude, annoying, and sticky, even if they haven't been around anything that should have made them sticky in the past 24 hours. Rory, however, is none of those things. She's polite, intelligent, and non-sticky, and right now she's sitting here in my diner, devastated because your jerk of an ex couldn't be bothered to get his ass into town. If I can do something to get that sad-eyed look off of her face, I want to do it." He paused and took a breath, still angry. "As for the disgusting thing you were trying to imply – it's probably best if I just ignore that."

He heard her suck in some air. "Sorry," she said, now meek. "Sorry. You need to understand, Rory's the most important thing in my life, and I don't let her go off with just anyone. Usually there's a whole vetting process first. Multiple-page questionnaires. A credit check. Getting the local CSI unit to run fingerprints." She stopped for a moment. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything." Another brief pause, followed by more confession. "Well, yeah, I did, but I didn't really believe it. I know you're just trying to help." Now she sounded miserably embarrassed.

"Look, I appreciate the fact that you barely know me, but if you have any doubts, go talk to Mia. She's known me since the day I was born. Or you said Sookie, a little bit ago? Sookie St. James, right? Go check with her. She'll vouch for my character, too. I don't blame you that you're cautious," he admitted grudgingly. "In this day and age, you need to be. If Rory was my kid, I'd fingerprint everybody between here and Hartford."

"Ah, you grasp my need to go ridiculously over the top on everything. Good to know." She paused again. "So where are you going to take Rory?"

"Not sure." Although that was no longer true. Luke actually did have a plan now, but he wasn't ready yet to voice it to Lorelai and have her shoot it down as something stupid. It would be easier on him to let the kid do it. "Does that mean I have your permission though?" he hopefully asked, not wanting to assume anything.

"Yes, you do. If you can cheer her up, I'd be forever grateful. Just let me know what you spend and I'll be happy to reimburse you when you drop her off."

"No, today's my treat. Don't worry about it."

"I'll owe you…something. Something big. Expect an extra tip after my next cup of coffee, mister."

Luke scoffed. "You mean after your next five cups of coffee, right?"

She laughed, a full, genuine laugh, and Luke felt proud that he had made her laugh. "It's sad, you know me too well already. Hey, let me talk to Rory for a minute and tell her it's OK. We have a rule that she can't go off with any adult unless she hears it from me, or if the adult in question knows the secret word."

"Secret word?"

"Yeah, it's something safety experts recommend, to ensure that some random person or disgruntled family member can't just show up at your kid's school and claim they have permission to pick them up or something. If they don't have the secret word, then your child knows they shouldn't go with them."

"Gee, I can't imagine what your secret word might be. Bacon?"

She huffed with pretend indignation. "Oh, I'm much too creative for such a mundane secret word. Good try at getting me to spill it to you, though."

This time he was the one to chuckle. "Hang on, I'll call her over." He turned and waved at Rory, motioned towards the phone in his hand.

Rory crossed the diner quickly, but paused at the invisible border preventing her from going behind the counter. He nodded and swept his arm out in a gesture of welcome. She bounded up to him and eagerly took the phone.

"Hi, Mom." Her face grew alternately thoughtful, amused, and finally fed up as she listened. "Yeah, I know. No, I'm OK. He does?" She looked respectfully at Luke. "No, I want to! Yeah, really. OK. No, no bad vibes at all." She grinned at Luke. "Mom. Mom, stop." She rolled her eyes. "OK, Mom. I will. OK, see you later!" She tried to hang the phone up but wasn't quite tall enough, so Luke took over that task.

"Mom says I have to tell you this." With a long suffering sigh, Rory recited, "If you try anything funny with me, I'm supposed to yell, kick you where it counts, and run away. And Mom says you already know just what she means by that."

Luke thought back on the long litany of swearing he'd heard erupt from Lorelai's mouth a few minutes ago and grinned instead of turning red. "Yeah, I know what she means."

"We're going to go someplace before you take me to the Inn?"

"If that's OK with you."

She nodded vigorously, those blue eyes sparkling once again.

"Then go use the bathroom, because there's not going to be one where we're going," he advised her.

Her shiny eyes went round and she gasped in surprise before fleeing towards the restroom.

Luke watched her disappear behind the curtain, a small smile staying firmly on his mouth. Then he reached for the phone and searched his memory, needing one more number from long ago.

"This is your truck?" Rory asked, waiting on him to unlock the door of the faded old pickup truck.

"Yep," he answered, swinging the door open. He was prepared to give her a boost, but her legs were longer than he thought, and she scrambled up with no problem.

"Awesome," she declared, settling into her seat.

"Put on your seat belt," he reminded her, before shutting the door and heading over to the driver's side.

"Mom wants to get a Jeep," she told him as he climbed in.

"Why?" he asked, truly not seeing the connection between stylish Lorelai Gilmore and the ruggedness of a Jeep.

Rory shrugged. "Don't know. She says she's always wanted one and it would be cool."

"OK," Luke said, shrugging off her mother's crazy preferences. He started up the truck and pulled away from the curb. "Hey, Rory, how old are you?"

"I'm going to be 11 in October."

Luke smiled, remembering how with kids it was always how old you were going to be, not how old you were currently. "That makes you what? Fifth grade?"

"Yeah."

"Middle school next year, right?"

"Yeah." She fidgeted a little bit in her seat. "I'm a sort of nervous about that."

"Why? You'll still be with all the same kids, won't you?"

"Theoretically," she said, pronouncing each syllable of the word carefully. "But we have to change classes and go back and forth in the halls, and there are lockers and everything. Plus, this year we're the big kids, you know? Next year we go back to being the shrimps."

Luke chuckled. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"And now I'm tall," she added gloomily.

"You're what?" Luke questioned, remembering how she wasn't able to hang up the phone in the diner.

"Tall," Rory repeated. "Since Christmas I've grown. I'm like the tallest girl in my class now."

Luke glanced over at her. "Being tall's not bad. I was always one of the tallest ones in my class. Gets you all sorts of advantages, because you can reach right over the short kids. The teacher will ask you to go back and get things off the shelves."

Rory gave him a baleful look.

"Think of it this way. Maybe you'll be tall enough in the fall that no one will think you're a sixth-grader. They'll mistake you for a seventh-grader, and won't pick on you."

Her look changed to one of thoughtful approval. "Yeah, maybe so," she agreed.

"Of course, the bad thing is if people mistake you for an older kid, that means they expect you to act older, too. They won't cut you as many breaks because they'll think you're old enough to know better." He smiled at her, one tall person to another. "But with your maturity level, that shouldn't be a problem."

She smiled at his compliment, then shyly turned away, looking out of the truck's window. "Wow, we're way out of town already. Where are we going?"

"To a farm owned by Ed Tallman. Ed and my dad were really good friends."

"Did they have a fight?" she asked compassionately, twisting a little bit in her seat so she could see him.

"Did who have a fight?"

"Your dad and the farmer."

Luke broke out laughing. "No! Why would you ask that?"

"Because you said 'were.' You said they 'were' friends. So I thought maybe they had a fight, and that's why they're not friends anymore."

A lump formed in Luke's throat. "No, they were friends for…" He stopped for a moment, trying to decide how to explain it to her. Finally he decided to just come straight out with it. "My dad died a couple of years ago, Rory. But Ed and my dad were good friends until the very end."

He waited, steeling himself for her sympathy. When some time went by and she said nothing, he looked over at her, and found her face registering wide-eyed horror. It occurred to him then that for all of her maturity, she'd never experienced anything like this. She knew instinctively she'd said something she shouldn't have, but she had no idea how to rectify the situation.

"Hey, it's OK," he said, reaching over to gently pat her knee. "He's been gone long enough that it doesn't really hurt me to talk about it now. I still miss him, though."

She sucked in a big breath of air. "But I never would have said that, Luke, if I'd known. I'm really sorry, if I made you sad."

He cleared his throat, looking straight ahead through the windshield. "My dad got very sick before he died. I didn't want to remember those days at the end, and because I didn't want to remember those, I haven't been letting myself really remember anything else about him, either. But when you asked me the questions about Father's Day, it got me to thinking about him. I started to remember the fun stuff, the happy days I'd had with him. So I'm really grateful that you came to me and asked me about my dad. It's made me feel close to him again."

"Really?" Her voice squeaked with obvious relief.

"Really." He shot her another smile. "In fact, that's the reason we're heading out to Mr. Tallman's farm today. I remembered something else that I liked to do with my dad."

"What?" Rory asked eagerly.

"You'll find out in a minute."

"Tell me!"

"Patience," Luke solemnly told her, just the way his dad would have, once upon a time.

"Grasshopper," Rory muttered.

"What?"

"That's what Mom would say. 'Patience, Grasshopper.'"

Luke chuckled. "Oh, Kung Fu. Geez, haven't thought about that show for years, probably."

"Stick around Mom enough and you will. She loves throwing out lines from old TV shows. And movies. She loves movies."

"No wonder I never understand anything she tells me," Luke commented.

"Well, that, and she like to see if she can get you frazzled."

"She likes to…Why?" Once again, Luke felt like the conversation had somehow bypassed him.

"Don't ask me." Rory shrugged, but it seemed like there was suddenly an almost-adult look about her mouth, as if she was deliberately keeping back a secret. "That's just the way Mom is."

"O-kay," Luke said slowly, glad to see the lane leading back to the Tallman's farm appearing on his left. "We're here," he told Rory, making the turn. The truck bumped over a small culvert running underneath the drive.

Rory pressed her face against the window. "Wow, it's a real farm!"

"What did you think it was going to be?"

"I don't know, but nothing this big." Rory turned from side to side, taking in the wide fields and big red barns, finally staring at the gigantic tractor pulled up under the shade on the other side of the garage.

"Let's go up and say hi," Luke said, climbing out of the truck. He walked around and made sure she jumped down safely, then led the way to the porch of the farmhouse, where Ed Tallman sat, watching them approach.

"Hello, Luke," he said. "Who's your friend?"

"Hi, Ed. This is Rory Gilmore. Rory, this is Mr. Tallman."

"Hi," Rory managed to say, but it was obvious that her shyness had made a comeback.

"Welcome to the farm, Rory. Ready to milk a cow for me?"

Rory stepped closer to Luke, looking scared.

Just then a big golden dog came trotting around the edge of the house. He paused for a moment, sizing up the situation, then snatched up a ball lying in the grass and came bounding over to Rory, dropping it in front of her feet and ducking his head under her hand, wanting to be petted.

"Oh," she sighed happily, immediately petting away. "What a pretty dog! What's his name?"

"That's old Clinton. Looks like he'd like a game of fetch with you."

"Can I?" she asked Luke.

"Sure." Luke motioned to the orchard to the side of the house, where apple trees were neatly lined up. Rory grabbed the ball and she and Clinton ran off.

"How are you, Ed?" Luke brought his eyes back to the older man sitting comfortably on the porch glider.

"Can't complain." He looked piercingly at Luke. "It was a surprise to hear from you today, that's for sure."

"Sorry. Yeah, it's been too long."

"She's a cute little thing," Ed observed, gesturing towards where Rory was enthusiastically throwing the now-juicy ball to an equally enthusiastic dog.

"Yeah, she's a great kid," Luke agreed, also turning to watch.

"Is her mama that pretty too?"

"What?" Luke's head whipped back around to stare at Ed.

"You heard me. I just wondered if the reason you were taking such an interest in the little girl is because her mother is worth the attention."

Luke felt his eyes narrow and his mouth tense up in irritation.

Ed burst out laughing. "I know that look! Both you and your dad, just the same. Whenever I'd hit too close to the mark, that's just the way William would look, too."

"It's nothing like that." Luke shook his head while climbing the porch steps, not wanting his voice to carry over to where Rory might hear. "Rory had her heart set on spending today with her dad, but the jackass stood her up. I'm just trying to take some of the sting away."

Ed made a noise of disgust. "What kinda dad would do that to his little girl?"

"Don't know, and frankly, I don't want to know. Thanks, though, for letting me bring her out here. I hope it will take her mind off it for a little while." Luke reached for his wallet. "I figure I'll need a board and some nails –"

"Put your money away, son. You know I'm not going to take it."

"But –"

"You're doing a good thing, Luke. It'd make your dad proud. Hell, it makes me proud." Ed grinned at him. "That's worth a couple of boards and a pound of nails, if you ask me."

Luke put away his wallet. He knew he was no match for Ed's stubborn generosity. "Thanks," he offered instead.

"Just satisfy my curiosity, though," Ed suggested with a devilish smile. "Is the mother pretty?"

Inwardly, Luke sighed. "Yes," he unwillingly admitted.

"Knew it!" Ed cackled, delighted at forcing Luke's hand. "Just how pretty?" he pressed on.

Instead of irritation, the teasing suddenly made him smile, remembering other days out here on the farm, his dad and Ed taking turns at bedeviling the kids. "Let's just say that if Rory grows up to look anything like her mom, she'll have boys following her all over town."

"But that fact doesn't have anything to do with your philanthropy, huh?"

"No, it doesn't," Luke said firmly. "Rory's a nice kid, and she doesn't deserve to suffer just because she got dealt a bad hand in the fatherhood game. But there's nothing going on between her mom and I. We really don't have anything in common."

"Hmm, seems like I can remember thinking the same thing about you and Rachel."

If there was one thing Luke disliked more than having people speculate about the women he should be dating, it was discussing women he had once dated.

"So, Ed, are you having a good Father's Day so far?" he asked, deliberately changing the conversation.

"Can't complain. Everyone's supposed to gather out here about 6, I think. Say, did you know I'm going to be a grandpa again?"

"Yeah, I'd heard. Congratulations."

"Well, you know what they say. If I'd known grandkids were this much fun, I would've had them first."

"We'll probably be long gone by then, so tell Carol and Dave and everyone else hello for me." Luke stepped off the porch. "We'd better get busy here. Thanks again, Ed."

"You take care, Luke. Good to see you."

"Same to you. Oh, and happy Father's Day," Luke added, noting in amazement how easy those words were to say today.

Luke started towards the closest barn, calling to Rory as he went. She threw the ball one last time, then came flying over to join him, her cheeks flushed and a huge smile on her face.

"Thought you said you had lousy hand-eye coordination."

"I do."

"Not from what I saw. You were throwing a mean game of fetch with Clinton."

"But…he's just a dog."

"So? Throwing a ball is throwing a ball. I bet it wouldn't take much to improve your form, make you into a real ball player."

Rory looked confused. "Do I want to be a real ball player?"

"You tell me. You were the one who sounded like maybe it mattered to you. If it does, let me know. I could probably find time to play some catch with you, give you some tips."

"Uh, OK." Rory gave a little shrug. "I'll think about it."

Luke opened up a side door, tucked under the eaves of the low building. He stepped aside to let Rory enter.

She poked her head in, stopped, and instantly pulled it back out. "It's dark in there. And it smells!"

"Your eyes will get used to the dark, and it only smells like cows."

"Cows?" She looked upset. "I don't really have to milk a cow, do I?"

"Not unless you want to." He hid a smile, took pity on her, and led the way inside. "Make sure you shut the door behind you."

"So the cows won't get out?" She quickly slammed the door closed behind her.

"The cows are probably all outside in the pasture this time of day," Luke reassured her. "Come on, follow me."

He opened another door and reached for the pullcord on an overhead light.

"It's a workshop!" Rory peeked in under his arm. "I've never seen so many tools!"

"Most of these belong to Mr. Tallman," Luke explained, "but some of these were my dad's. Once he passed on, Ed offered to let me keep whatever I wanted out here. I thought I'd come out sometimes, do some woodworking like we used to, but…" Luke stopped, shaking his head. "Somehow it didn't seem like I wanted to. Until now." He turned to Rory and gently smiled.

"What are you going to make?" Rory was walking around, looking at all of the tools scattered on the workbenches.

"You are going to make a birdhouse."

Once again Rory looked panicked. "I don't know how to make a birdhouse!"

"You will after today," Luke promised her.

Rory laughed and threw up her arms in surrender. "Whatever you say! Sure, I'll make a birdhouse. Learn to play baseball. Why don't you bring me a cow? I'll milk it, too!"

"Well, let's not go too crazy here." Luke walked over to where lumber was stacked against one portion of the wall and picked out a pine board that was maybe 6 inches taller than Rory. He angled it towards the floor and sighted down the length of it.

"What are you doing?" Rory came up to stand beside him.

"Making sure the board is straight and not warped. Also, I want to make sure the wood's not split and doesn't have a lot of knots in it."

Rory tentatively put her hand on the board. "How is this going to become a birdhouse? It's just one piece of wood."

"We're going to cut up the board into all of the pieces we need to make a birdhouse. And you're going to learn the most important rule about woodworking."

"What's that?"

Luke placed the board down on a workbench, then turned and put his hands on Rory's shoulders. "Measure twice, cut once," he intoned seriously.

"That's important?"

"Sure is. Think about it. How many times can you measure something?"

"As many times as you want to, I guess."

Luke nodded. "And how many times can you cut it up?"

"Just once…Oh, I get it!"

"Good girl. Now, come here and look at the two sides." He pulled a small stepstool over for her to stand on, so that she could better access the work surface. He waited for her to examine the board, then flipped it over. "Which side do you think looks better?"

"Well, the other side has some scratches and some gouges in it, so I guess this side is prettier."

"You're right again. We want the better side to be the outside, so we'll flip it over, and make our marks on the scratched up side."

Luke reached up and snatched a T-square from where it was hanging on a pegboard in front of the workbench, and pulled a thick carpenter's pencil out of a mug. "Now you're going to start measuring. The first piece needs to be 10 inches long." He handed the T-square to her and showed her where the measurements were on it.

"First thing we're going to do is to measure down ten inches from the top of the board," Luke instructed her, and then watched as she carefully counted and made a mark. "Now do it again on this other edge, so you can draw a line between them."

"OK?" she asked after another measurement and a mark, surveying her work.

"You tell me. Do you think it's right?"

"Yes. I think so. Probably." She looked less confident with each word.

"How can you make sure?"

He could tell when it clicked with her. "Measure again!"

He nodded and motioned for her to check.

"It's right," she said with obvious relief.

"Great. Take the square and connect your marks, then." He showed her what he meant. "Now, this piece is going to be the front, so we'll write that here on this part of the board, so we don't get confused later on, when we've got more pieces."

"What's next?"

"Measure another ten inches down from the line we just drew. That's going to be the top of the birdhouse."

He watched as Rory measured, measured again, and then drew a line and wrote 'top' on that designated section of the board.

"Next you need to measure down 7-3/4 inches," he told her, when she looked at him for instructions. "This piece will be the back. It's shorter so that the top will slant down over it and the rain will run off."

Rory's tongue poked out of the side of her mouth as she concentrated on her task. Luke grinned, remembering his dad's usual observation during their projects that the tongue did most of the work.

"OK, now you're going to measure 20 inches down. Then we're going to do something tricky."

"What?"

"Just get the first part done, then I'll explain it to you." He nodded in approval once she got it marked off. "This piece will become the sides of the birdhouse, and since we want the roof to slant, the sides need to slant, too. Now I want you to mark where 10 inches is on this one edge." He watched her find the halfway spot in the 20 inches she'd just calculated. "Now, on this opposite edge of the board, measure down 8 inches." She measured, made a light mark, measured again, and then made the mark darker. "Now, draw your line between those two marks," he told her.

"Like that?" She leaned back and regarded the angled line.

"Exactly like that. See how that gives us two pieces, both of them slanted the same way?"

Rory looked skeptical but soon saw what he was trying to tell her. "Huh, that worked!" she marveled. She wrote 'side' on both of the angled pieces.

"This isn't my first birdhouse," Luke informed her dryly. "And we're down to the last piece. Measure off 4 inches. That's going to be the floor."

"What do we do with this?" Rory put her hand on the board still remaining after she made the last measurement.

"We don't need that piece. We'll put it into the scrap pile. It'll get used for something else someday."

"Now what?"

"Now we get set up to do our cutting." Luke pulled two sawhorses out from under a table and put them in the middle of the space. He took the long board and laid it over the sawhorses. "First we need to do some drilling, though."

"Why?"

"Well, think about the front of the birdhouse. How are the birds going to get in?"

Rory giggled. "They need a front door."

"They sure do." Luke had the drill out of the case and plugged in by then. He showed Rory a drill bit with a rectangular section on it, followed by a pointy end. "We're going to use this one to make the hole."

She cautiously touched it. "How is that going to make a circle?"

"You'll see," he promised, making sure the bit was securely locked into place. He handed her some safety goggles and put some on himself. "Here, put these on. Don't want to take you home to your mom missing an eye later on."

"Yeah, she'd probably frown on that." Rory eagerly put the goggles on. "Do I look silly?"

"Of course you do. Everybody does." He made a funny face at her, to prove his point.

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Actually, you don't look much different than you did before."

"Gee, thanks for the honesty," he said, pretending to be hurt, and was happy to hear her laugh again. "OK, you ready for this?" He motioned for her to come and stand in front of him.

"I'm going to do it?" She sounded nervous, but took her place and let him position her hands on the drill.

"I've made an 'x' where we want the door to be," Luke told her. "We're going to put the pointy end of the bit right on the 'x,' and then we're going to press this switch…"

Rory gasped as the drill roared, the bit rotated madly, and sawdust flew. At first Luke was the one holding it steady, but she soon took over as she began to understand the process. She shrieked when the bit broke through the board.

"We did it!" she yelled, examining the new round hole in the previously solid piece of wood. "I can't believe that worked."

"Every time." Luke grinned at her. "Next we need to saw the pieces apart. I'm going to do that step, if it's all right with you?"

"OK," she immediately agreed.

Luke picked up a handsaw from the pegboard and maneuvered the board so that the front piece was hanging over the side of the sawhorse. "Tell you what, you help by holding up the end of the board while I saw, OK?"

"Yeah, I can do that." She took her place and watched while Luke cut through the board, following the line she'd marked. "Wow, you're strong," she commented, once the first piece was separated from the board. "You cut through that like it was nothing."

He shrugged off her admiration. "The trick is keeping the saw sharp. Ready to hold it steady for me again?"

"Sure!" She put the front piece down on the workbench for safe keeping and then took up her helper spot again.

When all of the pieces had been cut apart, Luke moved over to the workbench. He pulled out some sandpaper. "Here, while I look for the nails and other things we need, you can use the sandpaper on the edges and to smooth down the opening. Don't want the birds getting splinters." He showed Rory how to use the sandpaper and she willingly took over the task.

"Is this good enough?" she asked after a couple of minutes.

"Looks fine to me," Luke agreed, running his thumb over one of the edges. "Ready to put it all together?"

"Are you kidding? Yes!"

Luke picked out the two side pieces and sat them up on the work surface, their long edges facing up. He laid the front on top of the side pieces, making sure everything fit flush together. "Now we're going to anchor the front to the sides with wood screws. We're using screws so that in the fall we can take it apart and clean it out, after the birds are done using it for the season. But before we do that, we're going to drill a tiny little hole, called a pilot hole, where we want each screw to go."

"Why?"

Luke smiled, he'd suspected that was going to be her next question. "Because we don't want the wood to split, and drilling the pilot hole first makes sure that won't happen." He showed her the long, skinny drill bit, and she watched closely as he took off the spade bit and put on the thin one instead. He marked each spot where they were going to drill, and once again held her hands in place while she made each hole.

"Now it's time to put it all together." He changed out the drill head so they could use it as a power screwdriver.

"That was fun," Rory said, her face shining, once she had anchored all four screws into the sides. "Is that how we'll do the back, too?"

"We'll use nails everywhere else. We won't need to remove any of the other pieces the way we will the front."

They worked steadily, Luke showing his eager pupil how to fit the remaining pieces together. Rory drilled the rest of the pilot holes, but he took over the job of actually hammering in the finishing nails. At last the roof was attached and the birdhouse also had a floor.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever done," Rory said in a reverential tone, staring at the finished product.

"I'm glad you think so," Luke said, starting to pick up the mess they'd made. "My dad loved to go out to the shop when he had time and make something useful. Guess he passed that craving on to me, too."

Rory just stood in front of the workbench and gazed proudly at the birdhouse for a few more minutes.

"Hey, could I decorate it? Paint it, maybe?"

"Sure, if we can find some paint." He went over to a metal shelving unit and looked over the cans stored there. "How do you feel about blue?"

"Blue's good."

He opened up the lid with a flat-nosed screwdriver and found a skinny scrap of wood to use as a paint stirrer. He looked on the pegboard, selecting a narrow paintbrush meant for trim work.

"Here," he said, bring the supplies over to her. "Grab one of those old newspapers stacked over there and spread it over the top of the workbench first. And take a rag and wipe off the birdhouse. You don't want to try and paint over sawdust."

It wasn't long before Rory had the top and the two sides painted a robin's egg blue. On the front she carefully began to paint a cascading string of flowers, each with five round petals and a center of solid blue.

"My mom bought us some tools once," she commented after a while, working diligently on her design.

"What for?" Luke wondered, continuing to straighten up the shop.

"Because we live in a house now. Can't call Raphael to come and do maintenance work anymore."

Luke knew Raphael had done repairs at the Independence Inn for years. "Your house needed work?"

Rory gave a delicate little snort. "Needs work, more like."

"Like what?"

"Oh…" She paused for a moment, thinking, and also taking a moment to regard her artwork. "For one thing, our back porch is all messed up. When you walk across it, you can feel some of the boards do this." Her hand undulated up and down. "And then there's one board that's all crazy, it's sticking way up on one end. Mom was afraid one of us was going to trip over it and kill ourselves, so she bought a hammer and some nails."

Luke grinned. "Did she get it fixed?"

"Nope." Rory went back to painting. "The nails kept going in all crooked, and Mom got mad, and then she hit it really hard, but instead of the board she hit her thumb instead."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." Rory's shoulders hunched over, concentrating on her work. "She tried to pretend it didn't hurt, but I saw her crying. And then later, her thumbnail got all black and gross."

Luke swallowed hard. He had no idea why the idea of Lorelai Gilmore being hurt was upsetting him the way it was. He cleared his throat. "Is it still sticking up, or did your mom come up with a different solution?"

"She borrowed one of those orange traffic cones from work and put it on the bad board. She said the thing was a hazard and deserved to be ostracized."

Luke shook his head. Another one of those half-formed ideas was trying to land in his brain, but he wasn't ready to look at it too closely yet. He walked behind Rory and watched her apply paint to the back of the birdhouse.

"A unicorn," he said, finally making out the figure she was working on.

"Yeah, but it's not very good."

"Good enough that I could tell what it was," he protested. "Besides, it's not like you've got the right brush to work with." He pointed at what she'd painted on the lower right corner. "JTT? What's that?"

Her cheeks turned a rosy pink. "Jonathan Taylor Thomas," she muttered.

"A boy at school?" Luke sighed, hating to think that she was already into the boyfriend/girlfriend thing.

"No!" she laughed. "He's on TV."

"Ah." He paused, feeling relieved. "What show?"

"Home Improvement." She went back to dabbing paint into the corners. "To tell you the truth, I don't care all that much about him, but all of the other girls at school like him, so…you know. It's easier to pretend I do too."

"He's cute, I take it?"

"Yeah. He's also the brainy one. He gets all of the funny lines to say." She put down her brush and folded her arms across her chest, still contemplating the birdhouse. "I hear he's pretty short, though, so I'd probably tower over him if we'd ever really meet."

Luke recalled her earlier concern about being taller than her classmates, and thought of something else that might reassure her. "Hey, Rory, remember that your mom's tall. Think about how pretty she looks."

Rory didn't breathe for a little bit. Then, "You think my mom's pretty?" she asked in clipped, tight voice.

Too late Luke remembered what she'd told him on Mother's Day, about guys trying to use her to get to her mom. "She is pretty, Rory. That's just a fact of life. I don't mean anything else by saying it, just stating a fact. Another fact is that you look just like your mom, and you're probably going to grow up to be tall and pretty, just like she is."

She didn't say anything else, just thought that over. Finally she gave him a small smile.

"Could be worse, right?" he teased her, happy when she nodded in agreement, still smiling. "Come on, let's get the paint cleaned up and take you over to the Inn."

Pretty quickly they had the shop back in order and were in the truck, Rory gingerly holding the birdhouse with the still-tacky paint. They both turned their heads to look at the farmhouse porch as they bounced by, but neither Ed nor Clinton were in sight.

On the way to the Inn, Rory kept shifting the birdhouse from side-to-side in her hands, admiring it.

"You did a good job," Luke praised her.

She smiled over at him. "Thanks for showing me how to make this. I had a really good time."

"Good. I did too."

"Really?"

"What? You think I lie to gullible kids like you?"

She grinned. "Maybe."

"Nah, I don't lie. Well, only to Taylor," he amended, and was rewarded with a chuckle from Rory. "It was fun, Rory. I'm sorry things didn't work out with your dad, but I'm glad we had fun together."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Listen, when you decide where you want to put the birdhouse at your place, let me know." That previous half-formed idea was becoming much clearer. Annoyingly so. "I'll come over and nail it up for you."

"That would be great!" She beamed over at him. "Thanks, Luke."

"You're welcome." He nodded at her, and realized he was smiling again. He couldn't remember the last time when he'd smiled so much in a single day.

They pulled into a parking spot right in front of the Inn, the one designated for visitors just checking in. Luke came around and opened the door for Rory, then gave her a hand to help her jump down, since she was still carefully holding on to the birdhouse. She didn't let go of his hand when she reached the ground, but instead tugged on him, pulling him along the neat sidewalk leading up to the welcoming wrap-around porch that skirted the front of the building.

Feeling her girlish fingers closing around his made him think of another time, another era, when he'd been entrusted with leading his little sister up this same path.

Lorelai must have been watching for them, because she burst through the front door before they even reached the porch steps. "Rory! My darling daughter! You've returned!" she cried out dramatically, leaping over the last step and dashing up to them with outstretched arms. "You've been away for so long I hardly recognize you!"

"Hi to you, too, Mom," Rory said, rolling her eyes at her mother's antics. Then she proudly held up the birdhouse. "Look!"

Lorelai inclined her head, studying it. "That's really nice. Where'd you get it?"

Rory threw back her shoulders and held her head high. "I made it," she justifiably bragged.

"You did not!" Lorelai looked from Rory, to the birdhouse, to Luke. "You didn't." She looked less certain. "Did you?" She looked to Luke for confirmation. "Did she?"

"I did!" Rory insisted, while Luke nodded.

Lorelai looked flabbergasted and stared at the little house with more respect. "That can't be possible," she said faintly.

"Luke's a good teacher. He told me exactly what to do. He did the actual sawing part, but I did everything else."

Happiness and sadness seemed to fighting for control over Lorelai's face. "Rory, that's…that's amazing, Kid. Really." She glanced over at Luke, her expressive face registering what looked like guilt. "I had no idea she could do something like that."

"She's a great student," Luke commented, smiling over at a beaming Rory. "She followed every instruction to the letter."

"Is Mia here?" Rory asked.

"No, she went home already. But Sookie's still in the kitchen."

"I'm going to go show her too!" Rory started to run off, but then abruptly came back. She put her free arm partially around Luke's waist, giving him a sincere, if awkward, hug. "Thanks, Luke."

Caught off guard, he just as awkwardly gave her a hug back around the top of her head. "You're welcome, Rory."

He and Lorelai both watched her run up the steps and into the Inn.

"Wow, she's happy," Lorelai observed in a feeble voice. She turned and looked directly at Luke. "I mean, really happy."

"Yeah, I think so," he agreed, shrugging.

"No, I mean, she's happy." Lorelai shook her head. "She does this thing sometimes, where she pretends to be happy for my benefit, so that I don't catch on that something is really bothering her. But this isn't that. This is no act. You, my friend, have made my little girl very happy on a day when I thought she had her heart stomped into the ground, and for that, I thank you very much."

"It was my pleasure," Luke mumbled, wishing she'd just drop it. He took a step back towards the truck, wanting to be gone now that he'd successfully completed Mission: Abandoned Daughter.

But Lorelai took a step closer to him, quashing his effort to leave. "I finished your vetting process, by the way. Both Sookie and Mia gave you two thumbs up. Turns out they are both huge fans of the diner guy."

"Good to know." This time Luke took two steps closer to the truck, but once again Lorelai followed right behind.

"They both say you are an amazing guy, and I have to say, so far I heartily concur."

"It was no big deal." He looked longingly at his truck, still so far from him.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was." Lorelai took a step away from him this time, smiling softly. "But I get that you're kind of a shy guy, so I'm not going to press the issue. Just know that I'm incredibly grateful to you. Thanks, Luke. Thank you so much for what you did for my kid today." She turned, preparing to go away.

It surprised Luke to see his own hand reach out and gently snag Lorelai's upper arm, lightly pulling until she turned around and faced him again, a teasing smile gracing her mouth.

"Well, what do you know? You do know my name," he observed sardonically.

Her sapphire eyes sparkled at him. "Today I know your name."

Rory had already informed him of that. "She just wants to see what you'll do to make her stop," she'd told him. And for that matter, he was a little curious about that himself…What would he be willing to do to make her stop?

"Anything we can do to make sure you remember it tomorrow, too?" Geez, what was wrong with him, touching her arm the way he was and that weird tone in his voice – was that – was he flirting? But instead of dropping her arm, instead of saying goodbye and walking away, he watched her eyes sparkle. He made note of the enticing curve of her mouth.

"It just depends on the type of mood I'm in tomorrow," she advised him. Her blue eyes, currently just a shade darker than Rory's, looked deeply into his. She had no problem with flirting.

Say goodbye. Go get in the truck. Say goodbye. Go get in the truck. Say –

Lorelai reached up and put a soft hand on his chin, pushing her thumb into the small triangle of whiskers he stubbornly left intact under his lower lip. She stepped closer, rose up on her tiptoes, and lightly kissed his cheek. "Thanks," she whispered, next to his ear.

She landed back down on the soles of her shoes. "You turned what should have been a bad day into a good one. You're a miracle worker." She smiled and nodded vigorously before turning and heading back towards the porch.

Luke walked numbly to his truck. He couldn't resist a look over at the Inn before he climbed inside.

She was standing on the top step, watching him. "Bye Duke!" she yelled out, waving madly. Then she laughed and strolled inside.

Shaking his head and feeling more confused than ever, Luke got into the truck and headed home.

He stood in the street, looking in through the big front windows. Inside was his diner. Thankfully he noted that most of the tables were filled. He watched as his staff bustled around. It was a bizarre feeling, standing apart and observing the action, instead of being inside and being a part of it. Like an out-of-body experience or something. But then, it had been a whole day of strangeness.

Finally he shook off his uncharacteristic mood and opened the door. Jolene nailed him before he even reached the counter.

"There you are! It's about time! Larry's no match for the evening grill duties, you know that, Luke."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll be back there in a minute," he promised.

She gave a huff at his offhand attitude, grabbed up a tray of sandwiches and fries, and left for the floor.

Luke came around the counter and walked over to a spot by the coffeemakers. A cracked ceramic canister, once meant for sugar, was sitting there. Over the years it had become the repository of spare bolts and Canadian coins, pens that needed refills and rubber bands. A home for all of the odds and ends that collected behind the counter in a diner.

He flipped the latch and pulled open the lid, his fingers feeling for what he knew was there somewhere. He found it fairly quickly and pulled it out, rubbing the thin piece of newsprint between his fingers. It didn't feel like much. Just a horoscope, torn out of a newspaper. Had some words inked around the edge of it. Hardly seemed like something worth keeping.

Luke reached for his wallet. The small scrap of paper got tucked inside, hiding between his insurance card and a picture of his sister holding a dark-haired baby.

"Hey, Larry, I'm back," he called out, and stepped into the kitchen.

Up next: July brings fireworks, fairy wings, and a proposition...

A special note to anyone mourning the demise of TWoP: There is a new site called Lumpy Potatoes (lumpypotatoes period com) just waiting on you to come on over and say howdy. It's a perfect place for all of us who still love Gilmore Girls. If you want to discuss fanfic, get your questions answered about the show, or just reminisce, this is the place! See you there!