Another day, another ridiculous town festival.
Luke settled more comfortably down into one of the diner's chairs. Since he had the whole place to himself, he leaned back and put his feet up on the chair opposite him. Folding his hands across his stomach, he lazily looked over his domain.
Although he wasn't a fan of closing the diner in the middle of the day, doing so on this day had given him the opportunity to do a deep-clean on the grill. And after such a tedious chore, he felt like he deserved to take a break.
Casually he surveyed the madness going on in the square. Even though the theme was something offbeat, something to do with Quakers, the resulting mayhem surrounding the gazebo looked like every other festival he could remember. Same booths with the same greasy, calorie-laden food, the same artwork and crafts, the same little girls twirling in front of Miss Patty. The only difference was that this time the little 6-year-olds were costumed head to toe in drab, gray dresses, which had caused more than one of them to trip over the long hems.
It was the third Saturday in August, the heat and humidity pressing in on all fronts emphasizing that fact. Every Stars Hollow resident who could possibly find a lake within a half day's drive had disappeared, and the others were either at weddings – and seriously, who in their right mind would want to get married during the hottest month of the year? – or were right outside the diner's windows, risking heat stroke by perusing the festival booths. It had not been a hard decision to close the diner for the afternoon, considering the lack of business. He'd open back up at dinner time, when people were ready to eat something that didn't come served up on a stick.
The diner was quiet and dim. Luke's spine curved further down the chair. His eyes slid closed. A nap suddenly seemed like a fantastic idea.
A fist pounded on the diner's door, shattering the sleepy silence. Luke jumped up, momentarily disoriented. Grumpy at the interruption, he headed for the door, wondering what idiot couldn't read the 'closed' sign.
He started to smile when he got close enough to recognize the long, shapely figure standing on his doorstep. Even if she was covered up by the same gray material as the little dancers, he knew who it was.
"You know you don't actually have to dress up like a Quaker to salute them, right?" he teased, unlocking the door to let Lorelai in.
She nearly fell into his arms. "You gotta help me."
Luckily he still had the reflexes of an athlete and he was able to catch her neatly. "Oops there," he warned, thinking she'd tripped over the long skirt. He'd learned during the last few months that in spite of the long legs that reminded him of a ballerina, Lorelai wasn't the most graceful woman he'd ever known.
"Help me," she said again, grasping the front of his shirt in her fists.
"Sure, Lorelai. Of course," he assured her, frowning. She'd covered her pinned up hair with a white bonnet, which had slipped down over her forehead, partially blocking her face from his view. He kept one arm around her waist, to make sure she had her footing, but he used his other one to push away the bonnet. It fell back, hanging by the string tied around her neck. "What's going on?"
"Rory," she said, using the two handfuls of his shirt to pull him closer.
"Rory's not here," he reminded her. "She's…" Suddenly a pungent smell assaulted his nose. "Geez, is that punch?"
She nodded frantically, the bonnet bobbing on her back.
"What'd you do, bathe in it?" he complained.
"Spilled," she said, letting go of his shirt with one of her hands. She clutched her skirt, waving it back and forth between them, showing the large wet spot sullying the material.
Something about her mannerisms alerted him to another fact. "Are you drunk?"
"Yes!" Her eyes grew wide; her motions more panicked. "Drunk I am!"
Luke sighed. "OK, it's not the end of the world. How about some coffee, maybe some food –"
She shook her head, irritated at whatever he was missing. "Rory!" she insisted. She tried to stomp her foot, but didn't have the balance to pull it off, and Luke had to catch her again.
"Rory's not here," he explained to her, as patiently as he could. "She's at an overnight with her Girl Scout troop, remember? She won't be back until tomorrow afternoon." He now knew the girls' schedules as well as his own.
Again, Lorelai shook her head frantically. "Here Rory is!" she insisted.
Luke was trying not to laugh. "Do you always start talking like Yoda when you're smashed?"
Lorelai glared at him. "Stupid – Sarah something – got sick. They came back! Rory's back!"
The problem was starting to become clear to him, finally. "Rory's here? In Stars Hollow?"
"Yes!"
"Where is she?"
"Li-berry." Lorelai swung one arm out behind her, sort of pointing towards one of Rory's favorite spots in town. "Keepin' 'em there 'til parents come."
"OK, well, I can go get her and –"
"No!" Lorelai grabbed at him again, truly panicked. "Don' want her seein' me like this!"
"Right, right." He studied her flushed face. "Come on, let's try that coffee, what do you say? Maybe some…pancakes?" he suggested, trying to think of food that would soak up some of the booze. He started to lead her to a stool at the counter, but thought better of it and seated her at the table he'd vacated when she knocked on the door. "Just hang on," he encouraged her.
She groaned, hiding her face down in her arms which were folded on the table.
Luke had never cooked faster. He stuck a mug under the coffeemaker as soon as it started to percolate, quickly diverting some of her favorite beverage. "Here," he said, placing it close to her hand.
"Umm," she moaned, smelling the aroma, trying to rouse herself enough to grasp the mug and bring it to her mouth. Luke ended up helping, one of his hands raising the mug, the other holding the back of her head steady. "Careful," he warned, knowing how hot it was.
The temperature didn't seem to bother her, though. Maybe she'd already burned out all of the nerve endings in her mouth from years of abuse. Except he knew that wasn't true, because that night when he kissed her…
…Which was a completely inappropriate thing for him to be remembering. He shook his head at himself, tried to focus on the present problem. Extremely vivid pop-up memories from that night had been plaguing him for weeks.
"Keep sipping at that, OK? I'll be right back with your food."
"'K," Lorelai agreed. Her elbow slid across the table until her cheek was resting against the top.
The griddle was hot. Luke ladled out six perfect circles of batter and flipped them as soon as the edges crisped up and bubbles appeared. Once cooked through, he plated them, then grabbed some butter and syrup on the way back out to the dining room.
"Try this." He cut a wedge from the pancakes and lifted it to her mouth, knowing better than to suggest she do it herself.
Lorelai chewed and swallowed. She pushed herself upright and nodded.
"Good?"
"'K."
Luke cut another bite and held it out to her. She started for it, but stopped partway, her coloring suddenly changing from her normal china pale to a deathly greenish-gray.
"Whoa." Luke was already standing up. "Bathroom?"
Lorelai struggled to her feet, not answering. He grabbed her arms and quick-stepped her across the floor, behind the curtain, to the door of the ladies' room.
"Wait, let me…" He took the bonnet off over her head, rather than wasting time trying to unknot the strings. He pushed open the door for her. "Do you want me to –?"
"No. Rather die," she told him coldly, pushing past him. Relieved, he stood waiting out in the back hallway, trying not to listen.
She looked healthier when she came out, still very pale, but minus the queasy pallor.
"Better?"
She nodded.
"Did you…?"
She shook her head, then grimaced.
"Do you want to try and eat some more?"
She clasped her hand over her mouth, shuddering.
"I'll take that as a no," Luke surmised. "OK, let me get you home then."
"No, Rory…"
"I'll take care of Rory."
"But –"
"Don't worry, I won't let her know about this. I'll tell her you're not feeling well, that you've got a bad headache or something. Then I'll find something to keep her entertained for the rest of the afternoon, give you a chance to recuperate. How's that sound?"
Lorelai started to sniffle, fighting drunken tears. "Too good to be true, you are."
"Right. And don't you forget it." He put the bonnet back around her neck. "Just stand here a minute, let the wall hold you up, OK? I'll be right back."
He zipped through the diner, making sure everything was shut down and locked up, before dashing back into the darkened hallway again.
His feet slid to a halt, arrested by the vision before him. He couldn't help but stare at Lorelai, still leaning up against the ancient wooden panels of the original building. Her old-fashioned dress, her hair twisted up into a knot on the back of her head with a few graceful curls escaping down her neck, and her thick eyelashes sweeping over her pale cheeks, all of it made him think of the heroines on the covers of the western romances piled beside the check-out at the drugstore. She was certainly beautiful enough to be starring in one of those books, which he'd once heard Miss Patty refer to as 'bodice-rippers.' For a moment his mind drifted, imagining dusty streets with horses clip-clopping by, petticoats and six-shooters, and maybe a sheriff's badge pinned to his own chest…
For the second time that afternoon he shook his head, clearing away his fanciful thoughts. Lorelai needed to get home. And Rory needed him.
"Let's go," he said, getting his arm around her and turning her to walk down the hall. He led her out the back door, to where his truck was parked in the alley running behind the diner. It was a stroke of luck he'd parked there, because not only was it closer, it kept nosy eyes from seeing her stumbling shuffle.
In the interest of saving time, Luke didn't even try to encourage her to climb up into the truck. He lifted her up and sat her down, not minding her weight in his arms one bit. Reaching for the seat belt, he clicked it into place around her.
Once headed towards her house, he tried for a little bit of conversation. "So, how many drinks did you have?"
Lorelai wrinkled up her forehead, concentrating. Then she held up two fingers at him.
"Two? You only had two drinks, and you're like this?"
"Think it was two." She was still pondering. "'Cause I drank one, for sure. Then I spilled t'other." She reached for her skirt and fluttered it.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
She brought the material in the skirt up to her face, studied it. "Leftovers. From the ball'rinas. Made dresses for me and Sook. For fun."
"Looks like fun," Luke chided her. "Sookie was with you?"
"Yep." She nodded, exaggeratedly.
"Where's Sookie now?"
"Don' know."
"Can she hold her booze better than you can?"
"Yes," Lorelai said emphatically.
Luke made a mental note to look for Sookie passed out somewhere in the street when he drove back through town to get Rory.
"What made you do this today? Drink Patty's punch and get drunk?"
"Don' usually get to. 'Cause I'ma mom. Kid always needs me. Today, no kid. Thought I'd kick up my heels. Go wiiiild and cray-zee." She flapped her hands about.
"Dressed as a Quaker," Luke muttered.
"Salute!" Lorelai chirped.
They pulled up in front of Lorelai's house. Luke helped her up to the door.
"Don't suppose it's locked?"
Lorelai giggled, hit him in the chest. "You're funny!"
"Regular laugh riot," he agreed amiably, steering her inside. "Up or down?" he asked, once they were in the living room, pointing at the stairs.
Lorelai pointed at the stairs too.
"Up?" he confirmed, and she nodded in agreement.
"OK, here we go." She nearly tripped over the long skirt, so Luke gathered it up and held it, keeping it away from her feet.
They walked into her bedroom, and the overwhelming disorder in the room held off whatever embarrassment Luke might normally have felt in such a situation. In fact, he was so busy eyeing the piles of clothing and books, mending and shoes, that he didn't notice at first that Lorelai was trying to take off her dress.
"Whoa, whoa! Hang on here!" he said, grabbing at her hands.
"'S OK," she said, frowning at him.
"You've got something on under this?" he asked sternly.
She sighed loudly. "Yes."
"Besides underwear?" he clarified.
"Yes," she insisted again, struggling once more with the zipper. He gave up and helped, pulling the zipper open down her back. Relieved, he saw a camisole, like the one she had on when gave him such a shock on the 4th of July, and something that looked like running shorts, although he was pretty confident she'd never run in them.
Lorelai stepped out of the dress and somehow managed to kick off her shoes. Luke reached over and lifted the bonnet off of her again. She staggered towards the door.
"Where you going?" he inquired, following along behind.
She squinted at him. "Bathroom."
"You're good to go on your own?"
She nodded and kept going, Luke tagging along beside her.
"You've got some aspirin in there? You'll remember to take some?"
She nodded again, unsmiling, and closed the door in his face.
Feeling useless, Luke wandered back to the bedroom and waited impatiently for her to return. He picked up the discarded dress and bonnet, folded them neatly, and laid them on the least cluttered pile of clothing on top of the sewing machine in the corner. He picked up her sneakers – which were not exactly period for her costume – and tucked them under her dressing table, so she wouldn't trip over them later.
Lorelai walked back into her room, rubbing her arms. "Cold," she complained. She looked at him like he'd figure out the solution to her problem.
Luke noticed the Harvard tee hanging off the end of the bed, and remembered her comment that she sometimes slept in it. "Do you want this?"
She walked over to him, listing just slightly sideways, holding up her arms so he could put the shirt over her head.
"Mmm." She pulled the front of the shirt up to her nose. "Smells like you."
He was shepherding her towards the bed. "No, it doesn't," he argued. "I washed it before I brought it back," he insisted.
"Tha's what I mean." She plopped down on the bed, pulling the front of the shirt he was currently wearing towards her. She sniffed it, sniffed her tee again. "Smells jus' the same. Like you."
"Oh." He understood now. His shirt – the one that she'd washed and returned to him – smelled just like her, too.
She smiled up at him, a drunken coquette. "No washin' since you brought it back. Wanna keep smellin' like you."
He looked at her, torn about whether or not to admit he hadn't washed his, either. For the same reason.
Lorelai pulled her legs up and tucked them under the covers, settling down underneath the sheets. Her eyes slid closed.
"Hey!" Luke was worried she was going to slip off to dreamland before he got the information he needed. "You need to tell me the secret word for Rory."
She opened one blurry eye. "Wha' word?"
"Your secret word. The one I need to know so I can pick her up. So she knows it's OK to go with me."
"Tha' word." With a deep sigh, she closed her eye again. "You know it."
"No, Lorelai, I don't!" He sat down on the edge of the bed, nervously putting his hands on her shoulders, ready to shake her back awake if necessary. "You never told me, remember?"
She groaned. "You know it."
"No, I don't! I guessed bacon, but you said…" Luke blinked, sat back slightly. "It's bacon? Is that it?"
"Bacon," Lorelai murmured.
"Then why did you say…?" He watched her start to doze off. "Never mind."
Luke began to move off the bed, but then Lorelai started to fidget, moving her head unhappily. He realized that the knot of hair on the back of her head was bothering her.
Gently, he turned her head. His careful fingers felt through her hair, finding the bobby pins hidden there. He pulled them out, fluffing her hair down over her shoulders once he'd found them all.
She moaned, now content, and snuggled down into her pillow. Her eyes shut tight and didn't open again.
Get up off the bed; go get Rory. Get up off the bed; go get Rory…
For a moment longer, he watched her. Watched her breathe. Watched the now-free curls rise and fall on her neck while she breathed deeply, settling into sleep. Watched her lips part ever so slightly. Noted the freckles scattered over her nose, visible now because she'd washed off her makeup. Instead of the sharp, sour smell of the punch, she smelled minty, like the toothpaste she must have employed while in the bathroom.
Not able to control whatever feeling was building inside of him, he bent forward. Very, very lightly, he kissed her forehead.
Then he kissed her nose, right beneath those ravishing freckles.
Get up…
He couldn't have stopped, even if he'd wanted to. Too much momentum, everything was pulling him in one direction.
His lips brushed against hers.
Get Rory…
He sat up instantly, appalled at what he'd allowed himself to do, at the liberties he'd just taken.
Rory, he reminded himself firmly. That's what he was supposed to be doing. That's what he'd promised to do. He was supposed to be taking care of Rory.
He stood up, careful not to jostle her, then tucked the sheet over her before turning away and moving purposefully to the door.
And as he left the house, he locked the front door. Because from here on out he was going to do anything he could to protect his girls.
Luke drove to the library as quickly as he could. He remembered to look for Sookie along the way, but he didn't spot another drunken Quaker lady.
He hurried into the building, ready to ask the first library worker he saw where the girls were, but he didn't need to. They were in plain sight, Rory and three other girls sitting on one side of a long study table, their duffel bags and rolled up sleeping bags stashed against the wall behind them. Although the other three had their heads together, giggling away, Rory was deep into a book.
She looked up suddenly, almost as if she sensed he was there. "Luke!" She rushed over to him, happily threw her arms around his waist. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to get you."
"Is Mom working?"
"No, she's just not feeling great, so I said I'd come and get you. Is that OK?"
"Sure."
"Well, get your stuff gathered up, and I'll…uh…" Luke searched for the adult in charge, for the first time worrying about whether or not there would be a problem with him taking Rory home.
Rory pointed out a woman curled up in a chair by the side window, her interest being held by an Entertainment Weekly. "That's Mrs. Kinnison. She's the troop leader."
Luke approached the distracted woman. "Uh, hi, I'm –"
"Luke Danes," the woman gasped, dropping the magazine. She sprang to her feet, straightening her shorts. "I'm Rosie Parker. Or I was, anyway. I think you were in school with my little sister, Emma?"
"Oh, sure. How is she? And you?" he added politely, trying to pretend that he remembered either of them.
"Fine, and she's fine. That's my daughter over there, Kelly."
Luke glanced over at the girl and smiled. "Guess your camping trip didn't go as planned this weekend, did it?"
"No," she said with a sigh. "We've been looking forward to this all summer, and it just took one allergic reaction to send us all home again."
"Too bad," Luke commented. "But everything turned out OK?"
"Let's just say I earned some extra merit badges today," Rosie said grimly.
Luke nodded in understanding. "Is it OK if I take Rory for Lorelai today? I don't have a signed paper or anything…"
"Oh, sure, it's fine," Rosie said. "Lorelai put you down as an emergency contact weeks ago."
"Did she now?" Luke was both thrilled (at Lorelai's confidence in him) and irritated (that she'd do that without clearing it with him.)
"I'll tell Emma I saw you," Rosie added as Luke turned back to collect Rory.
"Please do," he said quickly, anxious to be gone. He was happy to see that Rory was packed up and ready to go.
"Here, let me take that." He grabbed up her bags. "Oh, I almost forgot." He bent down to Rory's ear. "Bacon," he said softly.
She looked at him as if her mother's craziness had rubbed off on him. "What?"
He looked around furtively. "Bacon," he repeated, just a touch louder.
Rory looked at him blankly and shrugged her shoulders. "OK. Uh, pepperoni?"
"What?" he asked, puzzled.
"Are we listing types of processed meat?"
"No, that's…" He looked around again, cautiously. "That's your secret word."
"My secret word?"
"Yeah, you know." He shifted his feet uncomfortably. "So you know it's OK to leave with me."
Rory's face broke into a glowing smile. "Luke, of course it's OK for me to leave with you. You're Luke."
He shook his head. "But you know better than to go off with just anybody, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. I'm not a baby. I just hadn't heard the 'bacon' thing in a long time."
They walked outside and Luke stowed her stuff in the back of the truck. "I thought we'd go find something to do for a little bit, let your mom rest up, OK?"
Rory paused in the middle of opening the passenger side door to look back at him. "Is Mom very sick?" she asked, suddenly looking worried.
"No, not really," Luke quickly assured her. "Just one of those headache things. We should just let her sleep it off," he added, smiling to himself over his choice of words.
Instead of climbing into the truck, Rory gazed over in the direction of her house. "Do you think she'll be OK by herself? Maybe we should –"
"No, I promised your mom we'd find something fun to do, to make up for you missing your camping trip. Besides, I think she'll appreciate having a quiet house this afternoon. Easier for her to nap."
"I guess," Rory said, still sounding doubtful. But she climbed up into the truck.
"What do you want to do?" Luke turned his head, looking behind while backing the truck out of the parking spot.
"Hmm, I don't know."
Luke pointed at the town square as they drove by. "You don't want to take part in all of this foolishness, do you?"
Rory giggled. "I can tell you don't."
"But I can," Luke backtracked. "If you want to, sure."
"Don't worry, Luke. I'm not going to make you salute a Quaker or eat a dumpling or something."
"Dumpling?"
"Or a pot pie on a stick."
"How in the world can you have a pot pie on a stick?"
"Those Quakers are tricky."
They were already passing the 'Welcome to Stars Hollow' sign. "Tell you what, I'll just keep driving, and when you see someplace you want to stop, you just tell me, OK?"
"Anyplace I want?"
Luke thought about how he needed to stay strong with her. "As long as it doesn't involve a mall."
Rory nodded. "I can work with that."
Luke started down the road towards Hartford. "Did you even make it up to the campground?"
"Yeah, we got there, and got checked into our cabin. Then Sarah stepped on a bee."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. She had one of those pen things, you know, to give herself a shot? But Mrs. Kinnison did it for her. I think she was scared."
"I bet she was. That has to be frightening, to be deathly allergic like that."
"Yeah, but I meant Mrs. Kinnison was scared."
"Oh." Luke didn't try to hide his smile. "Yeah, I bet she was too."
"Have you gone camping before?"
"Sure, lots of times."
"Did you go to sleep-away camp, when you were a kid?"
"Yeah, just about every summer."
"Did you like it?"
He tried to remember. "Yeah, it was fun. Swimming every afternoon, and cooking over the campfire at night. It was a church camp, so there were Bible verses to memorize, too. I remember I didn't like that part so much."
Rory was studying her fingernails. "Did you get homesick?" she softly asked.
"I remember…" He searched his memory for more detail. "The first couple of days were always a little rough, being away from home. Getting used to sleeping in a cabin with seven other boys. Wondering what you were missing at home. But then you got used to everything, and got to be pals with the other boys in the cabin. Then the last couple of days of the week you were dreading having to go back home and leave your new friends."
Rory chuckled. "So Wednesday was the only good day?"
Luke laughed too. "I think that pretty much sums it up."
The truck continued on down the road, and Luke and Rory kept up their easy chatter. He told her more about his camping experiences, and she told him more about the girls in her Scouting troop.
"How about miniature golf?" Luke pointed out a billboard, advertising a course they'd drive by in just a few miles.
"No." Rory was emphatic.
"Why not? Windmills, little tiny pencils. What's not to like?"
She gave him a dirty look. "Remember my hand-eye coordination thing?"
"Which I observed wasn't really a problem. Come on, I'll be there to help you."
"Nope. I had a really bad third-grade field trip."
"How bad could it be?"
"Bad. I had to push my way through three other groups and crawl under a fence to get my golf ball back."
He couldn't stop his burst of laughter. "How did that happen?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "I hit the ball, and it –" she indicated how the ball skipped with her hand – "and then it –" Her hand flew up in the air, illustrating her ball taking flight.
"It sounds like a lack of power isn't your problem," Luke observed.
"I'm just bad at sports," she said darkly.
"I'm not sure miniature golf actually qualifies as a sport, but my offer to coach you still stands."
"Maybe." She turned to look out of the window.
"Hey, how about bowling?" He pointed out an alley on the opposite side of the road.
She glared at him. "You just heard how bad I was with a teeny-tiny golf ball, and now you want to give me a bowling ball? Isn't that like a hundred times bigger?"
"Look on the bright side. It's too heavy for you to fling all over the bowling alley."
Rory didn't look amused.
"And there are no fences you'd have to crawl under."
She gave him a tiny smile.
"So should we go for it?"
"No."
Luke sighed and continued scanning the buildings along their route. They were getting closer and closer to Hartford, and more businesses were cropping up.
"How about a movie?" he suggested, as they passed a theater in a strip mall.
"Maybe," Rory said listlessly, turning to read the titles on the marquee.
"Do you want something to eat?" He could see a pizza parlor up on the left.
"Not really."
Luke tried to clamp down on his impatience. Even if all they did was to drive to Hartford and turn around and drive back, at least he'd given Lorelai a little more time to recover.
Suddenly Rory gave a loud gasp and leaned forward on her seat. "Oh, there! Can we go there?"
"Where?" Luke bent to look through the windshield, trying to find whatever she was pointing at. "That building with the fox on it?"
"Yes, yes! Can we go there?"
He put on the turn signal. "What is it?"
"Fox Books! This is the first one that's been built in Connecticut!"
He looked at the multi-storied building. "This whole thing is a bookstore?"
"Yes." Rory was awestruck. "Isn't it great?"
Luke didn't answer because he was busy fighting traffic. It appeared that half of Hartford was trying to get into the parking lot next to the massive bookstore. The other half was trying to leave.
"This is insane," he muttered some minutes later, waiting for a minivan to load up what looked to be at least a dozen hyperactive children and leave. "This is why we need to push public transportation."
"We don't have to go in," Rory said meekly.
Luke spun to look at her. "Oh, no, Rory, that's not…" He realized how much effect even his casual words had on her. "Of course we'll go in. I just like to complain sometimes."
"Oh, OK," she said, but the uncertainty lingered on her face.
Finally the van pulled out and they were able to park. Luke moved Rory's belongings to the cab of the truck, in order to lock them up. He put his hand on her shoulder as they walked to the front of the store. He knew she was too big to hold his hand, but he wanted to somehow keep her safe in the frantic parking lot.
Once they walked inside the building he understood why they were battling such a crowd of excited people. It was the grand opening of the store, and they were instantly assaulted by Fox Books employees handing out bookmarks, maps of the store, and twenty percent off coupons. Rory got a page of cute fox stickers that looked just like the store's logo and an application to join a 'Young Readers' club. Luke got a coupon for a free drink in the café.
"There's a café?" he asked, pulling Rory away from the crush at the entrance. "Who the heck needs a café in a bookstore?"
They joined the throng using the escalator to go up to the second floor, where the children's books were. Rory gazed out over the railing, looking around.
"Mom would love this," she decided. "And the coffee smells really good. It makes you feel happy."
Luke snorted, keeping his arm firmly behind Rory's back as the escalator chugged to the top. "Yeah, this is just what we need, more mega-stores taking away customers from the little guys. This is just like Home Depot and Lowe's stomping out the little hardware store owners. Goodbye, little mom-and-pop grocery store, I'm going to Walmart. Who needs Andrew's local bookstore when you can come here and spill a little coffee while you look for books?"
Rory's head whipped around to him in distress. "Andrew will close our bookstore?"
"No, no. That's not what I –"
"I don't want our bookstore to close! I love our bookstore! I love Andrew!"
"Rory, calm down. That's not…" They reached the landing and Luke pulled Rory off to the side, where there was enough open space to talk for a minute or two. "Look, sometimes I just like to rant about things that I think are wrong in the world. You don't always have to take me seriously. Sometimes it's just me letting off some steam. It's like the crazy stuff your mom says sometimes. You don't always believe everything she says, do you?"
"No, but…" Rory looked around her. "Look at all of these people. If everyone from Stars Hollow comes here to get their books, Andrew won't make any money."
"It's true, probably sometime in the next few weeks, lots of people from Stars Hollow will drive over here to look over the new store, just the way we are today. But why would you drive all the way over here to get a book when you can walk right down the street and buy it from Andrew?" Luke tried to find another way to reassure her. "Andrew might lose some business while all of this hoopla is going on, but he's built up a loyal clientele in Stars Hollow. His store will be fine."
"Yeah, I guess," she agreed, but unhappily.
"Here." Luke pulled out his wallet. "I was going to buy you one thing while we were here anyway." He gave her a five-dollar bill. "You can decide what you want the most." He found another five-dollar bill, gave that to her, too. "And this is for when we get back home. You go to Andrew's store with it, and buy something from him, too."
Some of the anxiousness started to disappear from Rory's face. He could see that she thought it was a good solution.
"I'll pay you back," she promised.
"You will not," he told her, putting the wallet back in his pocket. "I'm the one who invited you out today. You're not letting me take you to a movie or buy you something to eat, or even letting me beat you at miniature golf. I'm getting away cheap by only buying you a book."
She thought that over. "OK," she finally agreed, and carefully folded up the bills and placed them in the watch-pocket of her jeans.
They walked into the kids' area, which led into the 'young readers' space, and soon Rory forgot all about her fear of being disloyal to Andrew. It was possible she even forgot about Luke. She was obviously in heaven, flitting from one display to the next, eventually picking up one book carefully, reading every word written on the back of the cover, and then just as reverently, picking up another…
Luke watched her fondly. Then he watched her tolerantly. Then he watched her impatiently, dodging sticky little urchins running past him with Fox Books stickers plastered to their clothing. Eventually he found an overstuffed chair from where he could keep her in view. He sat down, thinking that she couldn't possibly take all day to pick out one book. Then he remembered the nap that had been interrupted by Lorelai earlier that day, and his eyes felt heavy.
"Luke?"
He blinked his eyes open, saw Rory standing before him. "Hey." He cleared his throat, wondered if he'd actually fallen asleep, and if so, for how long. "Did you find something?"
"Yeah." She leaned against his leg and showed him the cover of the paperback book, which had a group of girls clustered on it, all of them looking maybe just a little bit older than Rory.
"What is it?"
"It's the newest Baby-Sitter's Club."
"The what?"
"It's a series of books," she explained patiently. "These girls are all friends, and they made a club, and they babysit kids from their town, and solve mysteries. And do you want to know the coolest thing? They live in Connecticut!"
"Wow." Luke nodded solemnly, not sure what else to say.
"Yeah." Rory studied the cover again. "Lane and I have talked about making our own club, when we get old enough to take the babysitting course at the high school on Saturday mornings. But I guess we'd need to find a couple more girls to join up with us."
"How old do you have to be?" He struggled up out of the comfy chair.
"Twelve, I think."
"Well, you've got some time to hammer out the details then." He stretched. "You ready to go?"
"Yes." Rory looked back over her surroundings. "This has been wonderful."
Luke chuckled to himself over her enthusiasm for books in any form. They went down the escalator, Rory once again transfixed by everything she could see, and then he led them to the checkout line. He smiled secretly, spotting a whole rack full of the western romances he'd thought about earlier in the day because of Lorelai's old-fashioned dress. Even though the heroines on the covers of these books had on much more revealing costumes, he didn't think any of them were as pretty as the woman he'd put to bed that day.
No, wait, that didn't come out right. Guiltily, he looked over at Rory, relieved she couldn't hear his thoughts.
Once the book was purchased – the twenty percent off coupon giving Rory back fifteen cents in change, which she carefully pocketed – they started to walk by the café area. Luke heard Rory's stomach gurgle.
He poked at her, teasingly. "You sure you're not hungry?"
"Well…" She looked longingly over the railings at the chairs and tables and the displays of muffins and cookies.
"Come on. It's a long drive back. Let's get you something to fill you up until dinnertime."
"You're sure?"
He just laughed at her. "Come on, Lorelai's daughter."
"Lorelai the Second."
"Hey, stop it. Now you're just scaring me. No way could I handle two of you."
He had them stand a little off to the side of the line in front of the counter, so they could read the menu. Luke stood behind Rory, putting his hands lightly on top of her shoulders, debating with her on what to have.
"Rory?" A deep male voice startled them out of their contemplation. "Rory, is that you?"
A very tall man, possibly in his early fifties, had approached them on their left. He was very elegantly dressed for such a casual store, properly suited and bow-tied. He was staring at Rory as if his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Automatically Luke's hands tightened down on Rory's shoulders. He felt her lean back against him, shrinking away from this towering man.
"It is you, isn't it, my dear?" The man tried to smile kindly at her, but it seemed like he was out of practice, and the smile looked strained. "Where's your mother?"
"Mommy's sick," Rory mumbled, twisting herself so that she was hidden more behind Luke, farther away from the questioning man.
Luke looked at Rory in surprise, he'd never heard her call Lorelai 'mommy' before.
The man now took bead on Luke. "Lorelai's ill?" he questioned sharply.
The need to protect Rory engulfed Luke. He put his arm down across her, pulling her slightly behind him. He stood up straight, looking directly into the older man's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, you are…?"
The other man pulled himself up even taller. "Richard Gilmore."
"Gilmore?" Luke glanced down at Rory, then curiously back at the man beside them.
"Yes, Rory is my granddaughter, Lorelai is my daughter." Luke knew he wasn't imagining the disparaging look on Mr. Gilmore's face. "And if I may, you are…?"
"Oh, sorry." Luke put out his hand. "Luke Danes. Rory and Lorelai are friends of mine."
Richard looked him up and down, taking a long moment before reaching out with his own hand. "Yes, I'm sure they are." After a perfunctory shake, Richard repeated his question. "Lorelai is ill?"
"Nothing to be concerned about. I think that cast iron stomach of hers finally gave up." At Richard's disapproving look, Luke hastily expanded. "She's just not feeling very well today; headache, upset stomach. I volunteered to take Rory out for a few hours, to let Lorelai have a quiet afternoon."
"Ah, I see." After a moment of uneasy silence, Richard looked around the dining space. "I was just about to treat myself to a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?"
Luke's instinct was to say no. He could sense Rory's reluctance to be in this man's presence.
"I would very much like…" Richard stopped, looked away for a minute. When he began again, his voice had lost much of the steely formality. "I would appreciate the chance to spend a few minutes with my granddaughter." He again looked directly at Luke, but this time there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
After that, Luke didn't know how to refuse him. Besides, he'd be right there with Rory. He'd make sure everything stayed friendly, or he'd pull her out the door in a heartbeat.
"Rory, what would you like?" Richard asked when they reached the front of the ordering line.
"Muffin," Rory almost whispered, disappearing behind Luke's leg.
"What type?"
Another whisper. "Chocolate chip."
"Excellent choice." Richard smiled at the girl behind the counter. "Two chocolate chip muffins, please. One coffee, black. Rory, what do you want to drink?"
"Chocolate milk."
"Another excellent choice. And Mr. Danes, what would you like?"
"Just a bottle of water, please."
"Are you sure?" Richard prodded him. "Those muffins look exceptional, in my opinion. How about coffee, at least?"
"Just water," Luke repeated firmly.
"Luke eats weird," Rory volunteered.
A big smile broke out over Richard's face, perhaps from hearing Rory speak without being prompted. "Perhaps he thinks that it's you and your mother with the odd eating habits, eh?"
Rory smiled back, but stayed tucked behind Luke.
They found a table and Rory and her grandfather dove into their muffins. Luke grinned, privately thinking that family genes were hard to hide. He could picture Lorelai tearing into a muffin the exact same way, if she was here.
He twisted the cap off of his bottle. "Boy here's a racket, huh? Bottled water. Who'd ever dream that we'd be stupid enough to pay for water in bottle? And we're supposed to believe all of the crap on the label, that it's drawn from the purest mountain spring? Yeah, right. Probably comes right out of a tap in New Jersey somewhere. And then what happens to all of those empty bottles? You think even half the people drinking these bother to recycle? I bet –" He broke off, suddenly realizing that both of his tablemates were staring at him. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, picking at the label on the bottle with his finger. "Sometimes I guess I need to rant a little bit." He sent Rory an apologetic look.
"It's quite all right." Richard was smiling at him. "We'd all probably be much healthier if we let those rants out from time to time."
"The muffins are good?" Luke asked, to get the attention off of him.
"Really good," Rory confirmed, swinging her legs under the table. "Maybe not as good as yours, though. You should make chocolate chip ones."
"Don't hold your breath for that."
Richard looked at him with curiosity. "You bake, Mr. Danes?"
"It's Luke," he offered while nodding in confirmation, not comfortable with all of the 'misters.'
"Luke owns a diner," Rory cut in.
"Oh, I see." Richard nodded with interest. "In Stars Hollow?"
"Yeah. Mom and I eat there a lot," Rory continued, happily taking a sip of chocolate milk.
"Do you have a good location for your business?" Richard asked Luke, just as happily taking a drink from his coffee, once again mirroring his granddaughter's actions. "It seems that's one of the keys to success in small towns."
"I don't know how successful I've been, but I'm right across from the town square."
"You can't miss it," Rory chimed in. "People stop to see the gazebo and then walk over to the diner. Luke makes the best mac'n'cheese ever. And Mom's in love with his coffee."
Richard smiled tenderly at Rory. "Lorelai always did feel passionately about coffee from a far-too-early age. I'm afraid she got that from me. I'm rather addicted, myself."
Rory stopped swinging her legs and studied Richard. Shyly she smiled at him, and he beamed back.
"So, this Inn where Lorelai works. Is it close to your diner?" he further questioned Luke.
"No, it's about a mile away, on the other side of town."
"But it's doing well, I presume? It's been in business for a number of years, so I would hazard a guess that customers keep coming back?"
Luke nodded. "Oh yeah, the Independence has quite a reputation built up. People come back to stay year after year."
"Lots of weddings," Rory mumbled, her mouth full.
"And Lorelai…" Richard stopped, deliberately took another sip of his coffee. "Lorelai has taken to the inn-keeper business?"
Luke merely nodded, but Rory piped up. "She has her own office now. She's in charge when Mia isn't there."
Richard swallowed hard. "Well. That's…that's certainly wonderful to hear."
Luke observed Richard's barely-concealed emotion, but quickly looked away, giving the man the opportunity to recover his equilibrium. As much as he didn't want to get in the middle of this family drama, he still wondered if what he'd picked up on shouldn't be relayed to Lorelai. Maybe she hadn't been 'dropped' the way she believed.
"So Rory, sixth grade next month. Am I right?" Richard turned back to his granddaughter, once again all brisk business.
Rory nodded.
"Have you been diligently pursuing your summer reading list, or do schools no longer require that?"
"I don't have a reading list, but I've been reading anyway."
"Very good. What have you been reading?"
"The Hobbit," Luke quickly replied, making Rory smile.
"Yeah, I read that, and I started the first book in the Lord of the Rings, but I didn't get very far in it yet."
"Did you buy a book today?" Richard pointed to her shopping bag.
"Yeah – well, Luke bought it for me." Rory pulled the paperback out of the plastic.
Richard picked it up, studied the back cover. "Hmm, this doesn't look very taxing for a girl with your abilities."
"What's taxing mean?"
"It means this probably isn't very challenging for you."
"Oh." Rory thought about what her grandfather had said. "No, it's easy for me to read, but it's fun, too. I like reading about all of the girls in these books."
Richard nodded. "Reading for pleasure is a great gift, but often you can combine the joy of reading with strengthening your brain. What do you say that we go and find you some books to take home that will do both?"
"Um…" Rory shot Luke a nervous glance.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Luke spoke up.
"May I ask why not?"
Luke scrambled for a reason, something beyond his gut feeling that it would be a mistake. "Lorelai is pretty strict about accepting gifts from anyone. I'm not sure she'd be on board with it."
Even sitting down, Richard was able to suddenly look lofty. "May I remind you that this young lady is my granddaughter?"
"I'm aware of that, sir." Luke cringed a little bit, not sure where the 'sir' had come from. "But let me remind you that Rory has been entrusted into my care today, and it's my responsibility to make sure that her mother's orders are followed."
The two men stared coldly at each other for a moment, until Richard pulled back slightly.
"You bought her something," he complained, poking at the paperback book on the table.
"True." Luke looked at him, ready to grant a small compromise. "But I only bought her one thing. One."
Richard smiled, and Luke noticed how much his smile looked like Lorelai's.
"One is all I ask," Richard said in the satisfied tone of someone who was used to getting his way.
For several miles Luke kept stealing little glances over at Rory in the passenger's seat. Every time she was sitting the same way, somehow seeming small and folded up, and staring out of the window.
"Hey." He finally reached over and touched her arm. "You OK?"
She nodded, but didn't turn around to look at him.
"You're awfully quiet," he observed. "I've learned with both you and your mom that quiet usually equals a problem."
She faced forward then, putting her legs out straight and pushing her head back into the seat. "I'm OK."
"Is it because of your grandfather?"
She nodded.
"He seemed…nice," Luke faltered, not wanting to overly influence her opinion.
"Today, yeah."
"He's not normally nice?"
"Yeah, I guess, but sometimes…a lot of the times, he sort of…" She faded off, then looked over at Luke timidly for a second. "He scares me," she admitted, barely whispering it.
Luke sensed he needed to tread carefully. "Why does he scare you?"
She rubbed her nose and chewed her lips, taking her time before articulating her thoughts. "He's big. And his voice can get really loud, sort of…booming. And when he's not happy, he gets…taller, somehow. And his voice gets really low and it goes all around the house, and you can't get away from it, and…" She took a deep breath. "It's sort of…scary."
Luke asked the next question as calmly as he could. "When he gets mad, is he mad at you?"
"Me?" She looked at Luke in surprise. "No, he's never been mad at me."
"Then who does he get mad at?"
"Mom. They're always mad at Mom."
"Why are they mad at your mom?"
"I don't know." Rory folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. "I know they're mad at her about something she did when I was a baby. But that was like eleven years ago. Shouldn't they have stopped being mad by now?"
Carefully keeping his eyes on the road, Luke reached over and put his hand on Rory's shoulder, squeezing it tenderly. "Sometimes it's hard for parents and children to see past old fights. Nobody wants to admit they were wrong. I guess sometimes it seems easier to keep on fighting."
"I wish they'd stop," Rory muttered.
"Have you ever talked to your mom about it?"
"Just a little bit. She always tells me it's something I'll understand more when I'm older." She shrugged her shoulders. "Of course, she's been telling me that since I was six. When will I finally be older? When I'm 20?"
Luke grinned and put both hands back on the wheel. "What do you do when you're with your grandparents?"
"Read, usually. I make sure I take along a couple of books."
"Really? That's it? You guys don't talk?"
"Some. Grandpa always wants to know about school, what my grades are. And Grandma always quizzes me about who my friends are, if I've been to any museums, if my father's called…" She sighed.
House of sorrows, Lorelai had called it. Luke shivered, able to feel the chill just from Rory's meager description of their visits. His hands choked up on the wheel, thinking of Richard and his wife angry and yelling at Lorelai, and of Rory having to listen to it all…
"Luke?" Rory's voice was meek. "Did I do something wrong?"
"You? Of course not! Why?"
"You look angry," she pointed out.
Once again he became aware of how much she could pick up on his moods. He vowed to try and camouflage his feelings better when he was around her. "No, I'm fine. I'm just sorry you don't enjoy your Gilmore grandparents. How about your other ones?"
"What other ones?"
"Your other set of grandparents. Your dad's parents."
"I…" She blinked at him repeatedly. "Of course, Dad would have parents too," she said softly, almost to herself.
"Rory?"
"I never thought about that before. That Dad has a mom and dad. That I should have another grandma and grandpa."
Luke was stunned. He swallowed hard. "You've never met them?"
"No." She shook her head. "Do you think maybe they're dead?" She gasped. "Oh, poor Dad!"
Luke had a feeling he knew the real reason she'd never met her paternal grandparents, but he certainly wasn't going to voice it. "Maybe you can ask him about it sometime. Or your mom," he suggested gruffly.
"Yeah, I will." She stared out the window again, but a few miles later she was ready to talk.
"How about you? Did you have fun with your grandparents?"
"Depends on which ones you want to hear about," Luke told her. "My mom's mom was a picture-perfect grandma. She had one of those laps you could curl up on any time of the day or night. She'd read a story to you at the drop of a hat and always had a deck of cards in the end table, ready to play a game. Come to think of it, she usually wore an apron, too. Like I say, she was exactly what you think a grandma should be."
"Did she live in Stars Hollow?"
"Yeah, she did, just a couple of streets over from us. But even so, my sister and I would go over and spend the night with her sometimes. Then she'd make us cocoa before we went to bed."
"Wait – You have a sister?"
"Yep, Liz. She lives in New York, and she has a little boy named Jess." He suddenly looked at Rory with more attention. "Come to think of it, he's probably the same age as you."
"Wow, that's cool. Does he ever come to visit?"
"Not for a long time."
"Do you think he ever will?"
"Always a possibility," Luke said, making a mental note to call his sister soon and issue an invitation. It had been too long since he'd seen them.
"Did you have a grandpa?"
"My mom's dad died before I was born, so I never knew him. But I got to know my dad's parents, both of them, even though they moved away to South Carolina when I was still pretty young. It was always a big event when they came to visit, because we didn't get to see them very often. And I remember, it always took a few days before I felt comfortable with them again. Especially my grandpa. He was kind of like my dad, he was pretty quiet and didn't say much. Sometimes I thought maybe he didn't like me, but now I realize that was just his personality."
Rory nodded. "Sort of like you."
Luke smiled at her assessment. "Yeah, afraid so."
"No, that's good," she insisted. She thought a little bit more. "So I guess it was sort of like camp, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said that when you went to camp, it took a couple of days before you felt friendly with the other guys in your cabin. And you said the same thing about your grandpa, that when he came to visit you that it took a couple of days before you felt comfortable with him again."
Luke nodded again, thinking she was one smart kid. "Yeah, I guess that's pretty true."
"If I spent more time with my grandpa, do you think I'd stop being scared of him?"
"Yeah, I think so, Rory. I think your grandpa really cares about you, but he doesn't know how to show it. And whatever he's angry at your mom about, that probably gets all tangled up when he's with you, too."
"Maybe…maybe the next time we go to see them, I should only take along two books, and talk to Grandpa more."
Luke thought his heart just might burst with pride. "I think that's a great idea."
Rory turned thoughtfully back to the window. "Maybe I'll just take one book," she decided.
"Even better," Luke told her.
Walking Rory up to her house, Luke was wondering how they were going to get in, since he'd foolishly locked the door. Before he could warn her, Rory raced past him and threw open the door.
"Mom!"
"Hi, Baby. Did you have a good day?"
Luke stepped through the door and saw Lorelai sitting on the couch, covered with an afghan, her feet propped up on the coffee table. He realized she'd gotten up and made sure the door was unlocked for them. She still looked like a ghost of her usual self, but she smiled at him, her eyes thanking him without words for taking care of Rory when she couldn't.
"I'll just –" He motioned at Rory's bags in his hands and quickly took them into her room.
"Are you feeling better?" he heard Rory ask anxiously.
"I feel a lot better," Lorelai assured her. "That nap was just what I needed." She caught Luke's eye when he came back into the living room and smiled again. "And the aspirin probably didn't hurt."
He nodded and smiled too, sitting down on the chair opposite them. Rory had carefully sat down on the couch next to Lorelai.
"So tell me all about your big afternoon. What did you do?"
Rory grinned, grabbed one of her plastic bags and spread it out on the couch.
"Aw, lucky! You went to Fox Books?"
"Why does everybody know about that but me?" Luke groused.
"Because we are not Neanderthals. We stay abreast of current events. The TV is our friend."
"It was amazing," Rory said, ignoring, as usual, the way her mom teased Luke.
"Was the whole place full of books?"
"Yep."
"Did they have the café?"
"Yes, just like they showed on TV."
"Did you eat something there?"
Rory nodded. "A muffin and chocolate milk."
Lorelai glanced over at Luke, looking a little surprised. "Well, that sounds great. The next time we go, you'll be the pro and can show me around. So what's in the bag?"
"Luke let me pick out a book, anything I wanted."
"Baby-Sitter's Club. I should have guessed."
The lure of the book was more than Rory could withstand. She picked it up, opened the cover, and instantly started reading, lost to the rest of the world.
Lorelai grinned over at Luke. He shook his head back at her, still amazed at her daughter's intense degree of focus.
"So what's in here?" Lorelai spied the other bag and grabbed it before Rory was aware of what she was doing. "Wow, this one's heavy."
The leather-bound volume of classic fairy tales slid out, onto the couch. The gilt edges caught the light. Rory looked up, horrified.
Lorelai struggled to pick up the weighty book. "Oh, Luke, this was way too much," she chastised him. "The paperback was plenty."
"Luke didn't buy that one," Rory said quietly, sounding afraid.
"Then where did it come from?" She frowned, looking up from the book, and then turning to look in turn at both of them. "Luke?"
He directed his gaze at Rory. "Do you want to tell her, or do you want me to?"
"I will," she said, in a very small voice. "It's from Grandpa," she said, keeping her eyes down.
"Grandpa?" Lorelai stared at Rory, then turned wide eyes to Luke. "My father was there?"
He nodded, not liking the way her already pale face turned a shade more chalky-looking. The cute freckles were practically popping off of her nose, she was so pale.
"What happened?" Lorelai demanded.
Luke waited on Rory to tell the story, but Rory did nothing but hang her head.
"Somebody had better start talking right now!" Lorelai threatened, using up energy she didn't have to waste.
Luke decided it was best for him to step up, to save Lorelai from getting more upset. "We were getting ready to leave the store, and your father spotted Rory. He came over to speak to her and ended up inviting us to have a snack with him. And then he wanted to buy her a book. That's all that happened."
"Really? That's all?" she asked skeptically, with some residual anger.
"That's all," Luke confirmed.
"This book is still too much," she complained.
"Hey, he wanted to buy her the whole set," Luke said dryly.
"What?"
"Yeah, I told him he could only buy her one thing, and he insisted that the whole 22-volume set was one thing."
Rory leaned over, putting her hand on Lorelai's arm. "Luke was awesome," she told Lorelai, her eyes shining again. "He wouldn't let Grandpa do it, no matter how much Grandpa argued. He told him he couldn't do it, because you wouldn't like it, and that was that."
He could tell Lorelai was still fuming, but as she looked between his calm demeanor and Rory's happy face, she seemed to relax a little.
"You actually made my father listen to you?"
"Yep."
"He did, Mom."
Lorelai resettled herself on the couch. "Nobody makes my father listen." She paused a little bit, shaking her head. She smiled briefly at Luke. "Maybe you are awesome."
"That's what I've been telling you," he drawled out, a little smirk on his face.
She ducked her head, hiding a smile. She brought it back up with a sigh. "Tell me the truth, both of you. He was decent to you?"
Luke nodded, and Rory said "Yeah, he was nice."
"Even to you?" she questioned Luke, drilling her eyes into his.
"He was…" Luke shrugged, unable to come up with a different word. "He was a perfect gentleman."
Rory nodded in agreement.
Lorelai blew out a big breath of air. "OK, then. It was a day of wonders apparently." She leaned her head back against the couch, suddenly looking weak and tired.
Luke stood up and took a few steps across the room, so that he was standing right next to the coffee table. He reached down and lightly took hold of Lorelai's foot, which was resting on the coffee table, underneath the afghan. "Is there anything I can do for you before I go? I should really be getting back to the diner, get it opened back up."
"I'm fine, but thanks for asking, Luke. Thanks for everything."
He nodded. "How about if I send over some dinner later on? Something sort of bland, maybe?"
"Mac'n'cheese?" Rory asked eagerly.
Luke looked to Lorelai, who smiled.
"Yeah, mac'n'cheese would probably fit the bill."
"OK, two orders will be coming your way."
Rory maneuvered closer to Lorelai, snuggling against her. Lorelai put one arm around the girl and picked up the heavy book of fairy tales. Their heads nestled together in a way that made Luke think they'd done that a million times. Rory opened the pages, and pointed to where her mother should begin reading.
Observing the warm scene hit him right in the heart and made tears clog his throat. He forced his feet towards the door, away from…well, away from everything, really.
"Luke? Do you want to stay?"
Once again he'd underestimated the way Rory could read him like one of her books. He turned back to see her sweet smile. She patted the spot next to her invitingly. Lorelai smiled her beautiful smile and nodded her agreement.
He shook his head, cleared his throat. "Wish I could, but I've got to get to work. Raincheck, maybe?"
"Anytime," Lorelai told him, catching his eyes again.
"Thank you," he told her, hoping she could tell exactly what he was thanking her for.
"Well, I've had a very interesting morning already."
Luke looked away from the coffeemaker as soon as he heard Lorelai's voice. "Hey, I've been watching for you. How are you feeling?"
"Not bad." Lorelai sat down on one of the stools at the counter. "Probably a lot better than I should. Thanks again for everything you did yesterday. I'm so sorry you got stuck with my mess."
"No problem." Luke filled up a mug with coffee for her. "You should probably steer clear of Patty's punch in the future, though."
"Yeah." She took a quick sip of coffee before shaking her head. "I forgot what a wallop it packs."
"Did you ever hear from Sookie?"
"No, but I got the scoop from Mia. Do you know Jackson? The guy who raises all of the vegetables?"
"Yeah, I buy from him sometimes."
"Apparently he found Sookie wandering around one of his garden plots, muttering something about beets being the next big thing. He didn't know where she lived, but he'd seen her at the Inn, so he drove her over there. Mia took her under her wing after that."
Luke shook his head. "Both of you should've known better."
"Yeah, next time I'll just do shots of tequila, leave Patty's punch for the more seasoned drunks."
Luke sighed. "Was that what made your morning interesting?" he asked, circling back to the first thing she'd said.
"Oh, no, my friend. The interesting part was the call I got from my mother bright and early this morning."
"What'd your mother have to say?"
"She wanted to know all about the strange man that had custody of her granddaughter. Who was he? How well did I know him? Why he was permitted to take Rory for the afternoon? Was it sensible, to allow Rory to grow attached to this man? And just what does he do for a living?" Lorelai rolled her eyes before taking another gulp of coffee.
"Got the third degree, did you?"
"Oh, yes. Of course she thinks we're dating and I just don't want to admit it to her. So I laid it on pretty thick, about you and your long-lost girlfriend, about how you're pining away for her."
"I'm not pining," Luke growled.
"Hey, it worked in our favor, so if I say you're pining, you're pining."
"Whatever." Luke took a few minutes away from Lorelai's recap, delivering some breakfast plates and topping up coffee cups throughout the dining room.
When he returned to the counter, he asked her, "Could you tell what your father said about me?" He tried to ask it lightly, as if the answer really didn't matter to him.
"According to my mother, you are hard-headed, intractable, and a worthy adversary. And also obviously very attached to Rory."
Luke shrugged, not able to disagree.
Lorelai hid a smile behind the rim of her mug. "You are also a very 'handsome devil.'"
"Huh?"
"It was the 'handsome devil' comment that convinced her that you and I had to be an item. When she finally believed me that you aren't interested in me, I think you rose considerably in her estimation."
He pursed his lips and looked away, deciding it would be the wiser course of action to not question her belief. Instead, he changed the subject.
"Lorelai, didn't you tell me that your parents had never been here to see you and Rory?"
"Nope, they never have. They have no desire to go slumming. Plus, it gives them the advantage, to have me crawl before them on their home turf."
"Some of the things your dad said yesterday made me think they might not be opposed to the idea."
"Oh? Like what?"
"When he found out I owned the diner, he had a lot of questions about the town, and about the Inn. It was the way he asked them, I guess, especially the ones about how you were doing at the Inn. He seemed…wistful."
Lorelai sat down her mug and stared at him. "My father? Wistful? When speaking about me?"
"It seemed that way to me." Luke shrugged.
"Wow, that's…That's going to take some time to wrap my head around that idea. 'Wistful' is not a word I've ever associated with Richard Gilmore." She smiled tentatively at Luke. "Sure you want to get mixed up in all of this family feud business?"
He patted her hand. "Too late. I already am."
"Poor baby." She took a last sip of coffee and moved off the stool, preparing to leave, and Luke began to move away.
"Hey, one more thing?"
"Yeah, what?" He paused, turning back to her.
She bent her head, looking down at the counter. "I think maybe I was a lot drunker yesterday than I thought I was."
He frowned in concern, bent his head closer to hers. "What makes you say that?"
"I think I was hallucinating, maybe."
"What? Why?"
"Yeah." She swiftly glanced up, met his eyes, then just as quickly looked back down. "When you were leaving me, I swear I felt you…sort of...kiss me."
Shocked, Luke sucked in a breath, then didn't move, didn't speak.
Lorelai continued. "But I knew that couldn't be real. You wouldn't do that. Because we have these boundaries, and you wouldn't risk everything you want by crossing over them, right?"
He still felt like he couldn't move.
"So yesterday was just a weird day all around. The main thing we both need to know is that I won't have any more hallucinations. Right?"
She looked up and he bravely met her eyes.
"Right," he finally said, drawing the word out.
"It's all good then." She smiled half-heartedly and took a step towards the cash register.
Luke knew he should stay silent – something that he normally had no problem doing. But today he had the overwhelming need to have the last word.
"It's not weird though, to still want those things you know you can't have."
She whirled around on him. "Hey, buddy, you're the one who made these guidelines. You want to change 'em, just say the word."
He took in the conflict swirling over her face: irritation, hurt, plus maybe something like the hope he'd spotted in her father's eyes yesterday. He looked away and shook his head. "I can't change them," he admitted.
"Then you need to remember them," she warned him.
"I will," he said quietly.
"Then…we're back on the same page." She resettled her purse over her shoulder, looked around. "We'll, uh…we'll be by here for dinner, OK?"
"See you then. Have a good day."
"You too," she said, her voice softening.
It wasn't until a quiet moment later in the morning that it hit him, how much his impulsiveness the day before could have cost him.
He also realized that he'd been very wrong. Here he'd been thinking he needed to watch his words and actions carefully around Rory, so he wouldn't upset her or accidentally expose her to swear words or some other adult vice. Instead, it was with Lorelai he needed to take extra care. Because she was the one who had the power to shut down the family ties he craved. Because stepping over the line with her could ruin everything.
And…he was in love with someone else. He needed to remember that.
His focus set, he went on about his day, waiting impatiently until his surrogate family came back at dinnertime.
Is anybody as fond of "You've Got Mail" as I am? If so, you know from where I 'borrowed' the idea of Fox Books! ("F-O-X!")