RNM 15 Family Ties
Luke and Dean trudged around the side of the cabin where the back deck extended down the hill. Dean set the cooler under the deck in the shade while Luke pulled two lawn chairs out and carried them down to the water's edge. He walked back to the cooler, pulled out a beer, gave Dean a knowing look and went to sit in one of the lawn chairs, kicking his flip-flops off his feet and letting the lake water splash up against his toes.
Dean knew the drill. He took an opaque plastic cup, opened a beer and poured it into the cup. Luke made a point of never looking in Dean's cups, and Dean made a point of never drinking too much.
They sat there in relative peace, watching small motorboats pull water-skiers around the lake. Luke winced when the screen door to the deck slammed open and crashed against the side of the building.
"I don't care if Willy Wonka is your guide!" shouted Lorelai. "You are not going to the Caribbean!"
"It's perfectly OK!" returned her daughter hotly. "Grandma says …"
"I don't care what Grandma says! I'm responsible for you and I'm pulling out the Mom card and it trumps Grandma's entire hand!"
Rory stormed over to the deck and looked down at the men, both of whom were smart enough to pretend they heard nothing and they weren't going to turn their heads around for anything in the world. Finding no sympathy there, she shook her shoulders angrily and stomped back inside, followed immediately by her mother.
A small object came flying past Dean's head and landed on the miniscule strip of dirt they called a beach. He and Luke bent forward, peered at it, and once they saw that it was a pair of sunglasses, leaned back again in unison and drank from their beers.
"Hey! Those are my favorite sunglasses! I'm going to need those!"
"Oh, no you won't," growled her mother. "And you won't need your swimsuit or your sandals, or your sunblock." These items followed the sunglasses out the window, mostly landing on the deck itself.
"Of course I don't need my swimsuit. It's a serious journalism trip! We'll be working."
While the argument continued with things occasionally flying out a window or door, Dean and Luke continued their sitting.
Dinner began in stony silence, Luke and Dean quiet because they knew better than to pour gasoline on a burning fire, and Lorelai and Rory because they were stoking up for the next round.
"Mom," said Rory quietly.
"Talk to the duchess," replied her mother, waving the fancy potato on her fork. "Duchess of Potato, ruler of all starchy objects."
Dean started to chuckle as Rory sighed, but suppressed it when she pinched his elbow.
"So, Your Grace," continued Rory, "it has come to my attention that Her Very Honorable Grace expects great things from this humble servant, including her attendance at the University of Harvard."
"So it is to be," answered the Duchess haughtily, mimicking Dame Judy Dench's voice right before the Duchess disappeared into Lorelai's mouth, and a new Duchess took up residence on the fork.
"In order to be worthy of the position at the Court of Harvard in Boston, I must prove myself able to complete the initiation tests better than the other aspirants, is that not so?"
Lorelai's fork nodded imperiously as Lorelai chewed. "Indeed, that is so."
Rory smiled, seeing that her mother had finally had time to process the idea of the trip and seemed to be more open to the idea.
"I have been given a quest," she said tentatively.
"A quest! You have a quest?" pondered the Duchess. "A quest is good."
She looked at Rory inquisitively. "Pray tell, which quest is this that shall prove thy worthiness?"
Rory began to stumble in her bit. "To, uh, assess, um, the state of the peasants in the neighboring provinces. To be able to assure Her Grace that all is well in her duchy."
The latest duchess disappeared in Lorelai's mouth. She chewed and pondered, then gave Luke a pointed look, first at the empty serving platter for the potatoes, then at him. "Oh!" was all he said as he refilled the plate from the oven.
Fascinated, he and Dean continued to watch the spectacle as it played out.
A fresh duchess on her fork, Lorelai continued.
"Dragons," she stated.
"Dragons?" asked Rory. "What about dragons?"
"There be dragons there. How can we be assured that thou wilt remain pure of heart and sound of body?"
Carrying her plate to the sink, Rory turned and bowed deep to the potato. "My path will be guided by a brave warrior, true of heart and strong of bow."
"Christopher?" Dean snorted at the thought.
Rory rolled her eyes and continued. "SHE, this warrior, has been through many a successful quest and returned home each time, her charges protected and the duchy richer."
"And how shall you maintain your bodily welfare?" asked the duchess. "The warrior has other battles to fight on this quest."
"Yes, Your Grace. I shall take a manservant with me, whose sole task is to serve and protect me."
"I see," said the duchess sagely. "This concerns me. Thy servant is more of a fool, a jester, than a good and faithful protector." Luke grinned smugly.
Still talking to Rory, Lorelai looked at Luke. "Wouldst thou not rather have a strong, brave knight to accompany thee on thy quest?"
Whoa, thought Luke. This has taken a turn for the weird. Without thinking, he nodded subtly at Lorelai, who immediately lit up the room with her smile.
Lorelai continued, "I can easily command one of my knights to accompany you instead."
"Oh!" Rory looked at Luke with surprise. "Um, well, uh, this is a great honor, but the jester already bought his ticket. And I feel quite safe with the warrior."
"I'll go!" blurted Luke. He frowned, then added, "I'm not going to talk this fruity language, but I'll go."
The duchess' fork leaned over to Luke, who pulled back a little at the weirdness of a conversation with a potato.
The duchess on the fork inspected Luke, then was brought to Lorelai's ear, then inspected Rory. Eventually the fork wiggled again as Lorelai spoke. "We approve the quest. If you swear your allegiance to me, obey the warrior at all times and to avoid the Wicked Witch of Hartford, I will keep my knights here and you may go as proposed."
Rory bolted from her chair and hugged Lorelai in a choke hold. "I swear! Give me your blessing before the trip begins, and no evil, no witch will be able to harm me."
Popping the last duchess in her mouth, Lorelai rose, looked at her two Knights, and said, "ice cream on the deck, boys?"
"You got it," said Luke as they cleared the dishes. "Your highness," he added as an afterthought.
When Luke reached out his arm in bed that night, instead of his hand finding Lorelai's hip, it grasped her foot, inadvertently tickling her.
"Hey! Don't do that!" she tittered, yanking her foot back under the covers.
"What are you doing awake?" he groaned as he sat up to lean his head on her shoulder. Looking at her pajamas, he sighed when SpongeBob's googly eyes looked at him a little too friendly for a sea creature.
"Do you trust Rachel?" Lorelai squirmed on the bed, tucking a pillow behind Luke's back and scooting closer to him as she pulled up the covers to their waists.
"Sure. Yeah, I guess." He sat up straighter, tucking her too-tense body under his arm.
"Can I trust her with Rory? Can she keep her safe?" She grasped his fingers, seeking confidence and strength.
"Ah, the trip." He adjusted the blanket over her legs as he nodded his head sleepily.
"Look, Rachel is one of the savviest people I know. She's traveled to dangerous places and always returned safely. This trip isn't even to a dangerous country, just a poor one."
"You'd go with her?" Lorelai's voice wavered, her fingers twisted in the sheet.
He searched out her eyes, giant from concern, and reflecting the moonlight which was slowly making its way across the room. "I already said I'd go with Rory. And I've traveled with Rachel several times." He brushed his hand over her thigh. "Never had a problem."
Lorelai let air fill her lungs normally again. "Luke Danes, you've traveled? I thought you had to plug into the diner every night to recharge your batteries."
"Why does everyone think that?" Exasperated, he continued. "I've been on airplanes, rented cars, stayed in hotels, my passport's been used and it's even up to date! One time, we helicoptered into the site for Rachel's assignment."
"You keep your world traveler persona secret and you're annoyed at me? All we ever see in Stars Hollow is a cardboard sign plastered to the diner that says 'Gone Fishing' and you come home all smelly."
"Aw, geez. I came home smelly once, and that was because I was up here remodeling and the water was turned off. When I come back from vacation, most people never see, because I park my truck in the back and I don't show up until the next day when I open. And I've showered. I've even been known to do laundry on occasion."
"Seriously? I don't know how I'm going to be able to sleep, Luke. I never knew these things about you. This is big. Really big." He thumped his head against the headboard in frustration, knowing he wasn't going to hear the end of this for a while.
She grabbed his arm excitedly. "When Rory and I go to Europe after her high school graduation, you're coming with us! You can be our tour guide! And carry our suitcases!"
Sensing that she wasn't worried about Rory anymore, he slid down in bed, dragging her with him. "How about if we wait until tomorrow to book the Eurail tickets?"
Wrapping herself around him, she smiled into his chest. "Ooh. We'll get you lederhosen. Or a bullfighter outfit. This is gonna be so much fun." She chuckled. "Luke Danes, man of the world. Have backwards baseball cap, will travel."
"Kirk, go find another seat. That stool is for my girl." Luke leaned over the counter making himself bigger hoping to intimidate Kirk without threats.
"For his girl! Aw, isn't that sweet," quipped Sy, batting his eyes at Joe as they sat at the counter watching Kirk remain oblivious to Luke's menacing glares.
Luke turned that glare on them, and they ducked their heads, snickering.
"Kirk, last warning." Luke sighed. He needed a better plan, because Kirk was not budging. He moved to a small table off to the side of the room and cleaned it off.
Back behind the counter, he got Kirk's attention by standing right in front of him. Digging deep and not without effort, he managed to produce what could have been misconstrued as a smile by people who didn't know Luke Danes. For the people who knew him, the wide, toothy smile looked more like the Joker had possessed his body. "Hey Kirk," his tone sounding almost friendly, "you've got a girl, too, don't you?"
Kirk looked at him blankly. "I have a girlfriend, Luke. It's Lulu. You've met her. She's not fictional."
Luke blinked three times. "Not fictional. Right. Good." He stepped away, then moved back. "Um, hey, I cleaned off a table over there for you. You know, in case your girl comes in. Then we each have a seat for our girls." His jaw was beginning to ache from smiling.
Slowly, Kirk turned, inspected the table, then turned back to Luke. He stared unblinkingly. Luke felt the heebie-jeebies crawl up the back of his neck. "Good idea, Luke, thanks." Kirk then picked up his iced tea and moved to the table.
The bells rang as Luke gasped for air, vowing to never smile at Kirk again.
"Hey doll," purred Lorelai as she took her seat at the counter. They leaned in for a kiss before Luke poured her a coffee.
"You dropped Rory off at Rachel's ok?" he asked. "Any problems?"
"Christopher was running late as usual. Rachel wasn't happy about that," she replied. She gave him a sad, crooked smile. "Rory was so excited."
"I'm glad you let her go," he commented, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
"She and I had a great movie night on her last night in town," smiled Lorelai. "Hey, we didn't wake you, did we?"
"Nah, I was out like a light half an hour after getting home. Never heard a thing. Did I wake you guys up this morning?"
"Nope. We sleep like the dead when we go to bed after midnight."
Luke snorted. "More like a sugar coma."
"True dat," she answered, then looked sheepishly at Sy sitting next to her. "I can't really pull that off, can I?"
"Stick to your strengths, Lorelai," said Sy, with Joe nodding in agreement.
She heard her phone beep a calendar alert. Flipping it open, she groaned. "Oh no, I've got to go to Chilton. The Newspaper Boosters are having their meeting this evening. I have to go be all participatory and helpful. I despise being nice."
"True dat," echoed Luke.
Lorelai giggled. "Forget it. Just don't even try, Luke. If I can't make it work, no one can." She looked at her phone again. "I gotta go. You're going to be waiting with wine when I return from my battle with the hordes of Chilton parents?"
He nodded. "Can probably manage that." He snapped a lid on a to-go cup of coffee without her asking. As she waved her arms wildly reaching for it, he said, "Kiss" as he held the cup out of her reach.
Her grin lit up the diner. "Feisty Luke. I like it. Keep that attitude for tonight, mister."
She departed after their kiss, laughing as Sy and Joe started teasing Feisty Luke.
Late as usual, Lorelai finally found the Chilton newspaper office and entered. A half-dozen parents were already seated, as was their club faculty representative Max Medina.
"Oh! Lorelai!" exclaimed Max awkwardly. He stood up, then sat down, then half-rose again, finally dropping to his chair. "Take a seat. I'm really surprised to see you."
"What? Why?" she replied, setting her Luke's cup on the table next to her purse.
"Let's get started," sniffed Elaine, who was the group leader. "We've all got places to be and we need to get this over with."
Elaine held court and ran the meeting strictly, causing Lorelai to wonder if she were somehow related to Paris. Fundraising was decided in that ads would be sold for the paper, and before she knew it, both the Independence Inn and Luke's Diner were committed to a year's worth of advertising.
Uncomfortable as it was to be in the same room as Max since their breakup, what was weirder still was thinking about how surprised Max was to see her. Rory was practically editor-in-chief as far as Lorelai was concerned, and her presence should have been expected in this booster club.
Once every parent had been strong-armed into a significant contribution, the meeting broke up. Before she could pull on her pink leather jacket, a smilingly intense Max was at her side.
"Do you have a few minutes?" he murmured as he stood close enough to keep the conversation between the two of them, and to make Lorelai rather uncomfortable.
Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she smiled uncertainly as their last dates and breakup came back into her mind. "Well, it's probably not a good idea," she began.
"Lorelai," he pleaded, "this is all completely above board. I'm Rory's faculty advisor, and we need to talk."
"No Max, it's not that. You're just, … It's all so weird, you know, with the dating and the kissing and the not kissing anymore, …"
He gripped her elbows, pulling her closer. "It's not weird! I'm her advisor and we need to talk," he insisted.
She crossed her arms, breaking his hold on her. Shaking her head, she sighed. "We're talking about Rory, right? JUST Rory?"
His smirk betrayed his arrogant satisfaction. "Coffee? There's a place not two minutes from here. We can talk there and you can have your caffeine fix."
She reluctantly agreed, and they moved their cars to the hip, upscale coffee shop. It took Lorelai several minutes to select her 4 shot jumbo moccachino with whipped cream, caramel sauce and sprinkles. Licking the cream and caramel that hat dribbled over the edge of her cup, Max smiled libidinously as she sat on the sofa he'd chosen for their rendezvous. He moved infinitesimally closer as he held out a napkin to keep the sticky liquid from falling on her clothes.
"You know, Lorelai, I really admire you. You are an amazing woman." His ever-sincere eyes brought her back to the moment Max had tried to convince her to keep dating him. He nearly pleaded with her to believe him.
Luke never pleads, she thought. Luke.
Gratefully welcoming the return to reality that remembering Luke brought her, she stood up to throw away the dirty napkin, taking the opportunity to sit in an easy chair instead of on the sofa near Max. She now knew that if she gave Max an opening, he would start quoting literature trying to draw her back in.
"So you're Rory's faculty advisor?" she asked. "What does that mean?"
Max ignored her question as he continued with the flattery. "It's really extraordinary. You came to the newspaper booster meeting even though Rory quit the paper several weeks ago. That's a big commitment to Chilton, and we really appreciate that."
Rory quit the paper? "So, Max, which day was Rory's last day on the paper? I forget the exact date." Rory had never mentioned leaving the paper. She hadn't mentioned the paper at all. No wonder she didn't laugh in all the right places as they watched His Girl Friday last night. She missed being on the paper.
Max sipped his black coffee, assessing his chances of getting nearer to Lorelai in the cafe. He knew that if they could just spend a few more hours together he could convince her to start dating again.
"A couple of weeks ago, I guess. If you want to come to my office tomorrow afternoon, we could look it up. I think it was right after the parent-teacher meeting that her father missed."
"Christopher missed a parent-teacher meeting? That's kind of a big deal, isn't it?" Lorelai stiffened. Something fishy was going on here. She hadn't been invited to any parent-teacher meeting.
"No, not really. I'd already discussed Rory's grade problem with your mother, and she assured me that everything would be taken care of." He chuckled darkly. "What I didn't figure is that she would blame me. Headmaster Charleston had me on the carpet the next day. He hadn't done that since the time I was Paris' first year counselor. All she did was get a B, but I thought she was going to have me assigned to a coaching job instead of academics."
He drained his coffee and stood up to get another. "Do you want another one of those sugar bombs?"
Incensed, Lorelai just shook her head fiercely, curls flying everywhere, temporarily mesmerizing Max. While he was away, she dialed her mother's number, but quickly slammed her phone closed when the maid informed her that Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore were out for the evening.
"Anyway," said Max as he returned, moving at least to the armchair next to her, "We worked out a plan with Rory to get her grades up by the end of the semester. She has no chance to become valedictorian anymore, but her grades should still be sufficient to get her into Harvard. No Chilton valedictorian in the past fifteen years has had less than a perfect 4.0 grade average."
"My mother worked out a plan with you and Rory to bring up her grades? Exactly how low are her grades?"
Taken aback, Max looked at her blankly. "Emily said that you had requested her to be there. You and Mr. Hayden. She said you were busy with your career and didn't have time to deal with things at the moment." He shrugged. "It all made sense. Parents do that all the time at Chilton."
"Max, nothing my mother does makes sense." She abruptly stood up, exasperated. "From now on, Max, you will deal with no one about Rory except me. Neither Emily nor Christopher has any say in this. I'm her mother, I take care of her."
"Hey, OK, I get it. Emily just said, …"
"I told you it doesn't matter what Emily said!" She looked around, noticing people had begun to stare. "I gotta go."
"Lorelai, wait." She reluctantly stopped, but didn't turn around. "Can we maybe meet to go over Rory's details? I didn't know you weren't involved, honest."
She nodded.
"How about dinner? We can take all the time we need to discuss anything that comes up. How about La Romantica? Tomorrow night?"
Lorelai's chin fell to her chest. La Romantica was the most romantic restaurant in Hartford. Max didn't know about Luke. Max was hitting on her, had been doing it all evening long. Max was an idiot.
She turned, a smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. "Sounds fine, Max. We can be there about eight-thirty."
"We? You're bringing Rory? I thought she was on her field trip with her father?" He hadn't counted on Rory coming along.
"No, silly, I'm bringing my partner Luke. We do everything together. He'll be moving in soon, and of course, one day he'll be Rory's stepdad." She thoroughly delighted in the stunned look on Max' face before she turned on her pink leather high heel and exited gracefully.
Three-quarters of an hour later, she breezed into the diner, which had just closed. Luke called out to Caesar, "Lorelai's here! I'm gone!" and he came to greet her.
She breezed past him, waved a paper bag with hard liquor inside, saying only, "Upstairs." Shaking the bag again. "Tequila."
"Everything OK?" he asked, the stiffness of her spine and the tense look on her face telling him that everything was definitely not OK.
"Oh yeah, everything's peachy. A field filled with a thousand damn yellow daisies. By the way, you're moving in and we should start planning the wedding. We're getting married."
"Oh. OK." He dropped his cleaning towel and bounded up the stairs after her.
The next day a much calmer Lorelai sat at a table with Luke at breakfast. She'd slept past the breakfast rush and he had time to eat with her.
"You feeling all right? Last night was weird." Luke recalled the highly emotional Lorelai as she vented her anger at her mother and how Emily was using Christopher and Max as pawns.
She looked up from her coffee, slightly hung over from too much alcohol. "Thanks for talking me down off the ledge. My mother makes me crazy."
Luke rubbed his fingers nervously over the bottom edge of the table, his stomach turning, not from too much alcohol the night before, but from the realization that people had been sticking gum on the underside of his tables. He glanced at the wall above the coffee machine, wondering if there was enough space to put up a "No Gum" sign.
"Drink your coffee. Eat." He tucked into his own herb omelet with toast and fruit, but ate without enthusiasm.
Halfway through her second cup of joe, Lorelai began to chatter, normal second-cup-of-coffee chatter that accompanied her breakfast and revved her up for a whole day of being Lorelai. She swept her eyelids high enough to observe her boyfriend, but not so high as to engage him in conversation.
Luke looked … something. Not worried, but maybe a little. More like sad. She knew what was bothering him. She inspected her impeccable, sophisticated suit, brushing imaginary lint and smoothing nonexistent wrinkles out of the skirt.
"It was just a joke, Luke. I was getting back at Max for being an ass."
He crossed his arms as his sad face changed to belligerent. They'd had this discussion last night. "It doesn't make it a bad idea."
"But it shouldn't happen this way!"
"Well how do you expect it to happen, Lorelai? This isn't a romantic comedy. I'm not a singing cowboy."
She couldn't suppress the giggle. "Would you …"
Luke held up his hand. "Don't even go there."
"Not even the hat? You'd look fine in a ten gallon Stetson."
Luke cracked a half-smile. It was going to be OK. She wasn't mad that he'd suggested moving in and getting married.
She bit the inside of her cheek before looking up at him. "Luke, why did you do it? You knew I was just babbling to Max."
He rubbed his hands on his thighs as he chose his words carefully. "Some things you don't have to think about. It's like a piece of wood for a bookshelf. Sometimes you pick up the board, and the grain is straight, the color is just right. It's going to fit; there was nothing more to think about. When you said that last night, that's what I felt."
"Moving in together and eventually getting married just fits?"
This was the essence of Luke. He went with his gut. It didn't matter if he was choosing a piece of fruit for his breakfast, or making a life-changing decision. Fine, last night he went to a place she wasn't yet ready to go, but …, he went with his gut. He didn't lie or paint a fantasy dream family, like Christopher, or string romantic quotes, none of which he'd written himself, like Max. He was Luke, and his gut said it was right.
"Well, sure. We're together all the time. We hardly ever sleep apart, so why not?"
"Isn't it supposed to be harder than that? Don't we have to be lovesick, or have doubts, or …" She was stumped.
"Fly across country to the Empire State Building before I know that I want us to be together? That's not me, Lorelai. Remember my comment about the …"
"Romantic comedy? Yeah, got it, Cool Hand. Tough as the Terminator."
"Yeah. Not me. I save my dramatic abilities for Taylor."
"I kinda like a little romance, though. A gesture, a sign, something a little crazy."
"Ah. I get it." He looked at her with greater understanding. "So, sometime in the future …"
"… when it feels right," she said. "When we can do it with joy and happiness, laughing and hugging …"
"… then I can bring it up again?"
Eyes beaming, she nodded. "Or I'll bring it up. We do live in a liberated world. I just want it to be fun. Something we'll remember for the rest of our lives. Not when I have to go yell at Emily and Christopher."
"Fun, huh? You might bring it up when you're ready." He nodded to himself, liking this idea.
Lorelai grinned. "I know how I'd ask you, too. Batting cages, right after a trip to the juice bar."
He laughed, now a not uncommon occurrence for Luke Danes when a Gilmore girl was around. "I may have to wait for that one," he chuckled.
Grasping Luke's wrist, she sighed. "Time to go yell at Emily, otherwise I'll be late for my hair appointment. See you later tonight?"
"You bet." He walked her to the door, this time putting his arms around her before kissing her deeply. "Yours would probably involve a movie and massive amounts of ice cream."
He closed the door and watched her until she was safely in her car. The movie and ice cream plan faded almost instantly as he recalled the woodworking book he'd looked at the other day in Andrew's store. A chuppah. That might be an idea.
"No seriously, Bitty, stop," exclaimed a laughing Emily. Bitty Charleston and she were standing in front of Emily's house and Bitty was complimenting the greenery. "I will admit to hiring the best gardener in Hartford. It's amazing what he can do with a box hedge."
The Jeep came blazing through the gate and roared to a stop not ten feet away from the women. Lorelai got out, straightened her suit and took her purse, then walked swiftly past Emily and Bitty, saying only, "Mother."
"Oh, Emily," twittered Bitty after the door closed rather loudly behind Lorelai, "she is a stunner. And the way she wears clothes. Magnificent. When are you going to finally get her to join the DAR? We need someone with her energy."
After taking leave of Bitty, Emily went into the house, calling out for Geneen the maid to bring Lorelai some coffee. She found Lorelai standing stiffly in the living room, blinking furiously as she tried to suppress angry tears. Her outfit was impeccable. Bitty was right, dressed like that she could have taken Lorelai to any DAR event or to the country club.
"Lorelai," she began.
"Mom, what were you thinking?" demanded Lorelai. "Did you really think you could cut me off from Rory's schooling? That I wouldn't find out?"
"What are you talking about? What did you find out?"
"Max, Mom, you remember Max, right? The guy I once dated? The guy who is also Rory's faculty advisor? He told me everything. Everything! How you lied to him and told him I didn't have time to talk about Rory's education!"
Emily sniffed. "Well, he's fired." She made a mental note to call Hanlin Charleston and deal with it. Max had caused trouble once; now he'd gone too far.
Geneen brought the coffee tray and set it on the table.
Without asking if Lorelai wanted coffee, Emily seated herself on the sofa and poured coffee for both her and Lorelai. The Rosenthal china cups were her favorite, purchased decades ago in Europe. China hitting china made the only sound in the room as Lorelai stood with her arms crossed in front of her mother.
"For god's sake, Lorelai, sit down! Act as if you have at least the most rudimentary manners," demanded Emily.
"I don't want to sit down, Mom. I don't want coffee, Mom! I want you to stop interfering with my daughter!" Nonplussed as well as furious, Lorelai sat down anyway, and Emily pressed a cup and saucer in her hands.
Calmly, Emily scrutinized her daughter. "Don't be ridiculous, Lorelai, you can't handle this. You don't know how to deal with these people. Rory's grades are suffering and you've done nothing about it! I had to step in for her sake, if not yours."
The cup rattled on the saucer as Lorelai absorbed the information about Rory's grades. Max said the same thing, but Rory had said nothing. She seemed to live a normal life, for Rory at least, which meant hours of studying and a little time with her boyfriend.
"Look, Lorelai," said Emily, not unkindly. "I've been making sure Rory has everything she needs after school to do her studies. We set up a bedroom for her to study in and Christopher has been a big help."
"She has her own bedroom here?" Lorelai set the cup down, coffee untouched. Impulsively she bolted to the stairs to look for the bedroom. Sighing, Emily sipped her coffee before following.
The guest bedroom next to Lorelai's childhood bedroom had been renovated for Rory. Emily and Francine spent their days shopping, enthusiastically seeking out the right accessories and furniture. The two grandmothers had found a way to rekindle their friendship after Lorelai had nearly destroyed it when she got pregnant.
The room was decorated in French Country style, with creamy white walls, muted floral accents, and a four poster bed with a six inch thick duvet. The intricate furniture coordinated perfectly with the bed, and the far corner had a desk and bookcase setup that put the Crap Shack's modest bedroom to shame. A top of the line Apple computer stood on the desk ready for use.
Lorelai went to the closet and flung open the doors. A half-dozen Chilton uniforms and accessories hung there, plus several casual outfits. There were even shoes, pajamas and slippers.
Opening the dresser drawers, Lorelai found they were full of the latest sweaters, scarves; a wardrobe the average teen girl would kill to have.
"How long have you been working on this, Mom?" she queried, frankly stunned at the sheer consumerism.
"Well, Francine and I had a lot of time recently, so we'd go shopping, then pick Rory up from school and either go to tea or come here if she needed to study." She fingered the hand-quilted silk pillow covers, relishing the fine, smooth fabric and exquisite workmanship of the Alsatian seamstresses. "It's really only the basics, nothing extraordinary."
"Francine? Francine Hayden?" Lorelai pressed her hands to her temples, trying to absorb the details of Rory's secret life.
"Yes, of course, Lorelai!" exclaimed a frustrated Emily. "She's her grandmother, too! She has a right to do things for her granddaughter!"
Lorelai slammed the drawer shut. "What does Straub say about this? Mr. 'just get rid of the problem' Straub Hayden."
Emily waved her hand dismissively. "He's been busy. Francine really only has time when he's traveling," Emily hoped Lorelai wouldn't read the truth into her statement. She didn't want Lorelai to know that Straub still held her responsible for the pregnancy and Christopher's failed studies and careers.
Grasping a bedpost and leaning her forehead against the beautifully intricate carving, Lorelai sighed. This was over the top, even for Emily.
"You were never going to tell me about this, were you? Why? Why would you hide this from me, Mom?"
"Rory needs this, Lorelai, she needs these things, she needs us, she needs her father. Now that you know you're going to do everything you can to keep her from us, aren't you? That's why we didn't tell you."
"She has you!" cried Lorelai. "And if her father wanted to, he could be there as much as he wants. You're treating her like a china doll that you dress up with all this crap."
"Don't be ridiculous. She sees us once a week and on holidays! That's not a relationship. She's sixteen! She needs her own relationship with her family. I've done the right thing here. Thanks to me, she HAS her own relationship with her family."
"What do you mean?" Lorelai slumped onto the bed, shoulders sagging. This was all too much.
"Francine and I see her at least twice a week after school, and Richard and she have time together when she studies here. Even Christopher gets to take her out once or twice a week. It works out perfectly. I'm doing you a favor. She has someplace to go after school and she gets to be with family."
"God! Please don't do me any more favors. Next thing I know you'll have moved her in completely!"
"Well, now that you mention it, I …"
"No! No! Absolutely not! She is not moving in with you!"
"Actually, I was thinking you both should move in," said Emily imperturbably. "You'd still be able to work at that precious inn of yours, but you and Rory would be properly taken care of." She hadn't planned to voice her secret hope that one day, even as an adult, Lorelai would want to come back and live in Hartford, if not with them. Certainly not in light of the news that Bitty had found it necessary to come by and tell Emily personally this morning.
"We are taken care of, Mother! I take care of us! And we're doing just fine, or at least we were until you started taking Rory out for tea every day instead of letting her come home to study. Her grades were perfect before you began meddling."
"If her grades have gone down, it's because you aren't taking care of her right. She needs the proper resources to be successful at Chilton, and you've already proven you can't provide them."
Emily moved directly in front of Lorelai, staring her down. "Rory needs time with her father. You're preventing him from seeing her when you live so far away. Here, Christopher takes her out for coffee twice a week. They spend time together, he stops by when Rory's studying here. He's all grown up, and he says he's ready to start a family. His business is successful. It's the right kind of job, it's the right time to settle down, it's just the right thing to do."
"Christopher lies! To me, to Rory, to you! He's not even employed, Mother! His last company in California went bankrupt. I have always kept the door open for him to be with Rory, but he can't be bothered to be a real parent. He didn't even show up for the parent-teacher conference that you hid from me."
She looked around the room. No balcony. No place to escape. "How could you do this to me?" she fretted.
"Stop behaving like a child. We're not doing anything TO you, Lorelai, we're doing this for Rory. And for you, if you'll accept it. We aren't even asking for the apology we so richly deserve."
"You want an apology? For what? For making my life so intolerable that leaving with an infant was better than staying? Why, mom, why didn't you at least tell me? I'm here every week and you never said a word. Why couldn't you just tell me this? And why do you love Christopher so much that you conspire against me?"
"Because he lets us in to his relationship with Rory! We are her family too! He accepts that, even encourages it. If you were to move back to Hartford, maybe you two could finally get together, buy a house, settle down."
"But I did let you have a relationship with Rory!"
No! You give us a Rory "showing" once a week at Friday night dinner. You orchestrate what gets discussed and you hide things from us. Talk about liars, you're the one hiding things from us. And you're the one treating her like a doll that you pull out once a week and let us play with."
"I don't hide things from you that are any of your business! You hear all of the important stuff!"
"No? Then why haven't you told us you're moving that boyfriend in and getting married? That affects both my granddaughter and my daughter, yet you said nothing! How could you keep that from us?"
"Max!", breathed Lorelai. Suddenly Bitty's presence at the house made sense.
Yes, Max! The man is one of the biggest gossips on the faculty. You can't possibly have thought I wouldn't find out."
"I gotta go."
"What in the world are you thinking, Lorelai? How could you do this to us?" Emily was ready to continue the discussion, believing that eventually Lorelai would be reasonable like Christopher.
But her daughter was already gone.
A/N: I played a little fast and loose with the Max storyline, but in this case they did date briefly before breaking up permanently.