Chapter 3
"Mom, we have a dishwasher, remember?" Corinne said, after gathering together their breakfast dishes.
Rory's response to that was pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and diving into hand washing their dishes, instead of loading up the older, but functional, dishwasher.
"I really don't mind," Rory replied with a shrug, knowing there was no use reasoning with her daughter. She didn't get it.
The girl grabbed her tablet, and headed back out into the back yard, leaving her mother in the kitchen.
Their breakfast dishes and a few more weren't enough to fill up the washing machine anyways, and just like she could on occasion enjoy doing her laundry just the right way when she had the time, same went for her dishes. She'd read about dishwashing tablets leaving all sorts of residues on dishes and about all those environmental implications that running the machine empty meant.
Besides this reminded her of growing up. The house that she'd grown up in, had had no luxuries, and while cooking had never been high on their agenda, all the dishes had been hand washed. Sometimes she and her mom would even do them together, one would wash and the other would dry and they'd talk. Maybe in some way, this activity even made her feel closer to her mom now that she was gone. She sure missed her, but the wound was no longer fresh.
Being elbow deep in foam and about halfway through this process, Rory's tranquil moment was suddenly interrupted by some loud noises - first a crash, then a lot of cursing.
"Oww! Son of a…! Ah… Fucking hell!" Rory heard a young man curse along with a groan.
"Oh man, that must've hurt!" another one said, laughingly.
Rory couldn't quite see what had happened, but it sure had sounded painful enough, and despite having wanted nothing to do with her neighbors she couldn't help but to look out of her window a little more attentively, curious to see what was going on.
"Shit..., fuck! Oh, fuck!" the first one repeated, clearly sounding like he was in agony.
"Whoa, dude! You okay?" the other one asked.
"Oh, man… fu…," the first one groaned. "No, of course I'm not okay, just look at it!" he exclaimed.
Rory could just let her imagination flow freely, being around highschoolers on a daily basis having left her with quite the fantasy to imagine what could happen to a couple of bored teenage punks if left on their own devices.
"Dad!" the second one called out. "I'll grab you an ice pack," the same guy offered, actually sounding genuinely helpful.
"Ah… I think it's broken," the first one moaned, adding a few more expletives.
"What happened? Let me look at it!" the older voice demanded who Rory recognized as the guy she had in her mind labeled as the 'movie star dad', his look reminding her a little of all those older male leads on Hallmark, who all seemed to be playing the same stereotypical character.
The younger voice explained something, but Rory didn't really hear the full story from where she was standing, deciding to open the tap for a moment. She would've even liked to say she didn't care, but considering she could use some inspiration to get her onward from her first chapter, she really couldn't. Squirrels were only good for so much of that.
"Okay, we need to get you checked out. And possibly get stitches," the older man said.
"He looks white in his face, I think he's going to faint," the younger boy laughed, Rory now getting a better view of him through the Persian lilac tree.
"That's not funny, Theo," the man scolded him. "Okay, to the car! Theo, you go get my wallet and his ID," the man instructed.
Rory saw the man, gently supporting the young guy's back as he walked him to the car, the bushes being a little thin in that direction.
"Ah, crap...," the man cursed to himself, and slammed his car door shut, after taking a moment to assist the boy.
Suddenly Rory heard a knock on the door.
It couldn't possibly be, could it?
It all happened so quickly, Rory didn't really have time to do anything much, considering she'd heard part of the urgency. But on her way to the door she regained enough self-consciousness to realize she was wearing rubber gloves and a dishwater stained Yale T-shirt with her shorts. She hadn't washed her hair for at least a few days. It really wasn't her best look.
She was not after dating anyone, and as far as she knew the man in question was happily married to whoever that blonde woman had been in those Bottega Veneta's, but that didn't mean she didn't want to look nice for someone she considered at least a little handsome. This was so not her finest hour.
"What now?" Rory mumbled to herself, as she saw the man's figure up close through the glass of the front door. She most certainly wasn't up to provide any medical assistance if that was what he was assuming.
"Hi?" she asked, more audibly, opening the door, hiding her rubber gloves in her other hand that remained hidden behind the door.
"Hi, I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'm Logan Huntzberger - I live next door. My son just had a fall and I need to drive him to the emergency room, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind accepting a delivery for me while I'm out… I'm sorry to ask. It's just that it's kind of easily spoiled if they leave it out in the sun," Logan explained quickly.
"Um, sure," Rory said on automatic. It took her a moment, though she did wonder why he couldn't just leave the other son behind. But it really didn't seem like to moment to ask him that.
"I know it's a lot to ask, but if you wouldn't mind putting it in the refrigerator….," he added, definitely asking a little more than Rory would've considered modest of him.
"Okay," Rory replied, feeling a little stunned by the suddenness of everything, and that no-doubt seductive smile of his that he was using. No wonder that kind of guy had a gorgeous wife and five kids - Rory thought.
"The key's under the blue lantern by the back porch. Thank you. I owe you one," Logan said, nodding politely, before rushing off.
But at that point Rory also recalled her earlier theories about this guy's darker side, which she knew this type of guys to keep well hidden from most people. Men like that always had something up their sleeve, and that did the trick, stopping her from idolizing his appearance.
He hadn't even asked what her name was, or if she actually lived there. Truthfully, Rory thought she could've been easily mistaken for the cleaning lady in her current outfit. Maybe she should just be glad the guy hadn't offered to tip her for her help. That really would've been another low point of her life.
It wasn't very common for someone to be this trusting outside of Stars Hollow either. But if anything, Rory found the attitude bold, figuring they probably had the whole house on video surveillance anyways or simply didn't care if anyone stole one of their gadgets. Not that she was planning to do anything like that.
"You got it?!" Rory heard the man ask from one of his sons, and opened the car door again. Two car doors slammed shut, and the quiet buzz of the hybrid motor started up for it to be backed out in a rush, the gravel crunching under its tires.
Secretly Rory hoped that her neighbors would be back before any deliveries took place. After all, the Freeport Medical Center wasn't exactly a crowded place. In fact, the town had more emergency medical services for animals than humans. And whatever had happened, hadn't sounded bad enough to require a trip to Portland. Or so she hoped.
In anticipation of repeated interactions with that neighbor of hers, even if just a 'Thank you' in passing, which she knew was probably too much to expect, Rory headed upstairs to take a shower, instinctively wanting to look less messy. Just like her mother had always taught her - a little harmless flirt never hurt anyone, if anything she told herself it was all just in the name of research.
Her hair was only just barely shampooed when she suddenly heard a knock on her door again.
"Not now," Rory groaned with annoyment.
"Anyone home?" the unfamiliar voice asked, sounding like whoever they were, were in a hurry.
"Cor? Can you go get that? I'll be down in a minute," Rory called out for her daughter, continuing to curse to herself, and tried to rinse her hair off hastily.
There was no response from her daughter, while the knocking only got more intense. She didn't even know if she was inside the house.
"I'll be there in a second, hold on," Rory said, having managed to pull a towel around her chest, as she opened up the upstairs bathroom window.
"Oh, good, you're there," the delivery man said. "I'll just pile these boxes on the porch for you then," he said.
"I'll be down in a moment, hold on!" Rory repeated, not really wanting him to do that.
Thankfully, it was the summer, and Rory didn't have to worry about wrapping herself up in too many layers, settling for a cozy cotton dress that hung loose, not bothering with a bra or underwear, and pulled her bamboo nightgown over it, assuming her damp skin would transform her dress quickly into something half-see through. Her hair was still dripping as she hurried down the staircase.
"I'll just need a signature," the delivery man said, having piled a number of boxes, 6 in fact, onto Rory's porch.
"Um, sure… but can you just…," Rory began, scribbling her signature onto his tablet, but it took her a moment to figure out where to sign, the format being new to her, and trailing from where she'd wanted to go with that sentence.
"Thank you," he said, walking off to his car.
It was then Rory realized that the shipment actually contained the "Maine Lobster" sign on the side of the truck making it evident.
"I was actually hoping you would…," Rory began, having hoped to ask the guy to help her carry them into her neighbor's house.
But the driver already slammed his door shut, and drove off, not hearing her sentence.
It was not that she'd never enjoyed lobster before, it was just not their cooking process that she liked to think about, hence she'd never really attempted to do it herself. The sun was blasting and she was genuinely feeling sorry for the lobsters inside those crates. Not dealing with them was likely less humane than eating them.
"Ugh, great," Rory groaned, knowing she didn't have a lot of time to get this done. But first he needed to find the key and figure out how to get these crates next door, internally cursing the delivery man and his instructions. Surely, he'd known the correct destination wasn't her.
"Corinne?" she called out, hoping to get her daughter to help her out, but knowing she was likely to have a nose in her tablet or something with her earphones on, like she'd spent the last couple of days out in the backyard.
She picked up a crate, figuring she could only really do it gracefully one at the time and made her way to her neighbor's yard.
Her daughter was indeed laying on her stomach in her bikini, and had her earphones on had she had some respect juggling the crate and calling her, promising to reprimand her for not hearing anything later. Besides, she wasn't quite sure if she wanted her 14-year-old to traipse around their neighbor's house being unsure if she could quite keep her curiosity to herself. She wondered whether it had ever been this challenging for her mother to raise her, having always believed to be the goody-good back then. But who knew because even Corinne was good with her schoolwork and tended to not get into too much trouble.
She found the key where this Logan had mentioned it being and opened the back door. One crate through the door, she headed back to bring another two, somehow managing to pile them up on top of each other.
Once she got them all inside, she realized she was facing another problem.
The fridge, while double sided, wasn't big enough for all six crates, not even if they'd been emptied out in advance. Rory opened up the fridge tentatively, trying to figure out where to possibly fit these sea creatures.
The fridge held a variety of items - and frankly it kind of reminded her of what the fridge at her grandparents had once looked like. There was a lot of gourmet cheese and meat, and it was definitely evident by the selection of sports drinks, protein supplemented items that men lived in this place. There was also a surprising selection of vegetables and basic sauces, telling Rory people in here genuinely loved to cook. There was some room, but clearly whoever had tried to prepare for this had gravely underestimated their space requirements.
Rory pondered maybe they were even the kind of people who had a whole other pantry somewhere - maybe lobster wasn't even supposed to fit in there. But that Logan guy hadn't said anything of the sorts… but then again he had been in a hurry. Either way it felt odd going to look for it. What she did was simply glance around - taking in her surroundings, whether there were any hints about the layout of the place.
The place was a lot less homey to her standards, but then again the white pillars, the materials and the white grand piano in the back of the living room, overlooking the ocean, made quite the statement that this summer house didn't really strive for 'homey'.
Really not wanting to spend any more time on this than she had to, she realized what she needed to do.
"Oh, you're going to owe me alright," Rory mumbled quietly to herself, and began to open crate after crate. She was going to have to transfer the lobsters to fit together in fewer crates.
In the process of trying to transfer the lobsters with her hands, being a little grossed out at the same time, she got some water stains on her robe. Whenever one of the lobsters moved, her entire body just wanted to drop them and get out of there. But she realized, that would've looked even weirder, if she'd been in there and left a number of lobsters walking around on those Brazilian Mahogany floors.
It took a while, but eventually she got things done, and closed the door behind her. The miss manners in her made her wipe down the occasional water stain with a paper towel. The empty crates she left behind. She emerged from the back, putting the key back in its place.
She was just about to step back inside her house, when the petrol blue SUV drove past her driveway.
"Great, now you return," Rory mumbled, and closed her door behind her. She didn't care for fake pleasantries and thank you's when she just felt like a good chunk of her time had been stolen from her.
Rory headed back inside, knowing she'd need to start thinking about lunch soon, vaguely hearing the mumble of her neighbors in the background. Corinne returned inside as well, coming to the kitchen for a snack. That conversation they'd had perhaps a thousand times earlier - the girl wanting a snack, inquiring what was for dinner, but complaining about most suggestions until eventually leaving it up to the mother to decide. Corinne landed on the living room couch, there being fittingly just two couches there, one for each of them, and Rory began to put together some cold tortillas.
Her teeth were a millisecond away from biting into that same tortilla, when she heard another knock on the door.
"Seriously?!" Rory mumbled, and reluctantly placed her plate back on the counter.
"You say something, mom?" Corinne asked from the next room.
"Oh, nothing," Rory said and walked to the door.
"Yeah?" Rory said, opening the door.
"I just wanted to say thank you," Logan said. "I hadn't realized, it was going to be so much work. I sure, hoped the delivery guy helped you carry them at least," he said, wiping half of Rory's hatred for this man away. He actually sounded genuine.
"That's alright," Rory said politely, downplaying the inconvenience.
"And hey, you know… to repay you for your trouble, you're welcome to join us for dinner. A few more mouths by the table with as many as we are would be no trouble at all," Logan suggested, hoping to win her over mostly so she wouldn't hate them for their loudness.
He couldn't deny, however, that the woman had a certain understated elegance to herself, even if she was still dressed in her robe in the afternoon. And… sexappeal too, her nipples showing through the fabric just a little. He did his best, trying not to stare, only perhaps raising the corner of his mouth a little.
"Oh, that's alright. It's not necessary," Rory said, really not feeling spending her night making small-talk when all she really felt was having been invited out of fake-politeness. She knew people like that from her grandmother's circles well enough, having even worked for the DAR for a short while during college.
"Well, the offer stands if you change your mind," Logan replied, not understanding why she was refusing a lobster dinner. But then again - he really didn't know her reasons. Maybe she was married? Nope, no ring on the finger at least - he observed her hand that was leaning against the door, his eyes again pausing for a millisecond on her body.
"Alright then," Rory said, wanting to get on with her day. But somehow, she sensed him linger. Something inside of her forced her to say it - "How's your son?" Rory asked.
"Just a fracture and a few stitches. He'll live," Logan said.
"Good," Rory said, actually sensing something for a second. Some type of connection - something familiar about him which she couldn't quite place. If nothing else, an understanding of parental worry about their child's health.
"Alright, have a nice day," Logan nodded, beginning to retreat.
"You too," Rory said, realizing just now that the man didn't even know her name.
"Who was that?" Corinne asked from the doorway as she closed the door.
"Just the neighbor. I accepted a delivery for them," Rory explained, being eager to get back to her tortilla.
"I thought I heard him mention something about dinner? He asking you out or something… which by the way, would be about time," Corinne said, not having much of a filter.
"Corinne!" Rory scolded her. "He's married for all I know," she added, knowing that if her daughter knew one thing about her, it was knowing what her type was. And that guy certainly wasn't far off.
"But there was some mention of dinner?" Corinne inquired, having heard more than she let on.
"Yeah, he invited us over for helping him. But honestly it was just a society invite… he didn't really mean it," Rory said, brushing the whole thing off.
"Oh can we?!" Corinne begged suddenly. "Please," she added, placing her hands in a praying gesture.
For a second Rory was confused, but it was then she realized - it was the kids Corinne wanted to interact with, wanting her to build that bridge for her. Probably with the teenage boys in particular. Even if Corinne was still too young to really want to date seriously in her opinion, she couldn't deny that crushes and friendships were still a part of growing up. Especially if she wanted her daughter to enjoy their time there. She really had no good reason for denying her that chance, had she? If they were truly so horrible, they'd learn soon enough, right?