Rory sat criss cross on her bedroom floor carefully creasing the edges of glittery purple wrapping paper around a Spice Girls CD.
Her mother peeked her head in, "How many times have you re-wrapped that gift?"
Rory bit her lip, "Well I want it to be perfect."
Lorelai came to sit down next to her and gently tugged one of her pigtail braids, "C'mon missy. You know as well as anyone, that the best part of any birthday party is ripping the wrapping paper off of the presents?"
"Yes, but this is Katie Fincher's birthday party," She said as if that meant anything to her mother.
Katie Fincher was part of the illusive cool crowd at Stars Hollow Elementary. She wore eyeshadow, was the first one in the 5th grade to develop, and sported a temporary glitter tattoo in the shape of a heart on her ankle.
She only started to acknowledge Rory's existence right before winter break, when they were partnered on a diorama project together. Rory had happily taken on the bulk of the workload. An invitation to Katie's 11th birthday party was promptly slid onto her desk the same afternoon the two of them received an A+. Since then, Rory had been obsessed with finding just the right present to impress her new friend.
"So, is Lane going to this party too?"
Finally satisfied with the supremely smooth edges, Rory neatly signed her name to a Lisa Frank tag and taped it onto gift with precision. She spared a glance in the mirror above her dresser and adjusted the plastic headband in her hair. "She wasn't invited."
Lorelai frowned, "What do you mean she wasn't invited? Wasn't everyone in the 5th grade invited?"
Rory shrugged and slid the wrapped CD in a gift bag printed with rainbows. "Morgan Anderson said not everyone got an invite. Besides, Lane and I don't have to do everything together."
Truth be told Rory had never attended any kid's birthday without Lane by her side. But she was in the 5th grade now. Next year she'd be in Junior High. She supposed now was as good a time as ever to start maturing. Besides, Katie Fincher's birthday was the invite to score. How could she not go.
For her part, Lorelai tried to act totally cool about the situation. She adored Lane, and treasured the friendship the two little girls shared. But outside of that one friendship, Rory had struggled to meet more people outside of their own little bubble. Maybe this was a good thing. Rory should go to things like this. Expand her bubble a little bit. Meet new people.
But as she observed her daughter expertly swipe some cherry coke flavored Lipsmackers in the mirror, she wondered how much expansion she could handle.
Lorelai pulled into the driveway of Katie Fincher's house, and before she could even turn towards her daughter, Rory had unlatched her seatbelt and hopped out of the car. She walked over to her mom's driver's side door and stopped her from doing the same. "You don't need to walk me in!"
"Rory! I've never even met her mother before."
"But no one else's mom is going to walk them in holding their hand like a baby."
Lorelai narrowed her eyes and her tone turned no-nonsense. "Either I walk you in there or you get right back in the car and I make you listen to that Spice Girls CD until your brain hurts."
They knocked on the bright red door and it swung open a few moments later, revealing a group of four women wearing matching bob hair cuts, similarly styled outfits, and sickeningly sweet smiles.
"Hi," Lorelai said with a bright smile, "I'm Lorelai, and this is my daughter Rory."
The blonde in the middle found her voice and held out her arm to welcome the pair inside. "It's so nice to meet you both. I'm Debbie," she gestured to the other women trailing behind them now, "And this is Sandra, Kellie, and Connie."
Debbie lead them into the family room, which was noticeably devoid of any type of birthday decoration. However faint sounds of pop music and laughter filtered through the stifled air.
Debbie smacked her forehead in realization, "Some of the kids have already arrived. The party is all set up down in the basement! Go on and head down. Second door on the left.
Rory offered a polite smile and quickly waved goodbye before trotting off on her own without a second glance back at her mom.
As soon as Rory was out of sight, Lorelai was surrounded by the blonde brigade. They offered her a seat and a white wine spritzer.
"Sorry ladies, I actually have to run."
She glanced at her watch. She had 20 minutes to stop by the diner for a caffeine and Luke fix–in that order, before heading to the Inn.
Debbie looked concerned, "So soon? But we've been dying to finally the famous Lorelai."
Lorelai's jaw dropped ever so slightly, "Famous, huh."
She felt four pairs of eyes study her, and suddenly felt very much on display.
"You're so young," mentioned one of the ladies.
"Well I had Rory young."
Connie eyed her skeptically, "What about her father?"
"Uh…"
Kellie leaned forward and asked "And what about the ever mysterious Luke Danes," in a conspiratorial tone.
Lorelai tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit, "Um," The ladies sat there looking at her expectantly. Lorelai took a breath, and glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry I really do have to head out so I'm not late for work."
"That's right, you work over at the Independence Inn, right? We have our book club there on the first Wednesday of every month. You should join us sometime."
Lorelai shouldered her handbag and shot her a tight smile, "Maybe!"
"Well don't be a stranger, now. And not to worry, we'll take good care of Rory."
Lorelai practically barreled through the door to the diner ten minutes later. She all but fell into a stool by the counter and craned her neck in desperate search of Luke.
Mike spotted her and dropped an oversized mug in front of her and filled it to the brim.
"Bless you," she responded with a grateful smile as she took a few greedy sips. "Where's the boss man?"
Mike pointed upstairs, "He said had to take care of a couple'a housekeeping matters."
Lorelai picked up her mug and headed towards the curtain.
"He said he didn't want to be distracted!" She heard Mike exclaim as she ignored him and skipped up the wooden staircase.
She knocked lightly and while waiting for him to come to the door, took another long sip of her coffee.
Luke greeted her with a quick kiss and she followed him inside. He took his vacated seat at the kitchen table and silently refolded a couple of papers, sliding them back into a torn-open envelope.
Lorelai took a seat on the couch and quietly observed his behavior. He seemed a little off. "Hey, is everything ok?"
Luke nodded in the affirmative, and sat down next to her with a sigh. He deposited her empty mug on the end table and laid his warm hand on her denim clad thigh. She rested her head comfortably on his shoulder, but when she opened her mouth to speak again he beat her to it.
"Let me pick you up from work later, we can pick up Rory together and take her out to dinner. Maybe rent a movie or something afterwards.
"I'd like that," She said softly. She took his hand in both of hers and laced his fingers through hers. All too soon though, the numbers on his watch caught her eye. She twisted his wrist to read it properly.
"Shoot, I'm so going to be late."
Slowly she peeled herself away from him and shrugged back into her coat while he remained on the sofa looking lost in his thoughts.
"Babe," Her soft tone had him snapping back into reality in an instant. He mustered up some energy and walked her to the door with a hand at the small of her back. She smoothed a finger over his furrowed brow. His demeanor was really starting to concern her. "You're sure you're ok?" Her delicate fingers dropped to his chest and smoothed down his flannel clad chest in a calming way.
He kissed her. Capturing her lips in such a tender way that she felt her knees go weak. When he pulled back, she blinked slowly and attempted to clear the fog his kisses always caused. She went in for one more before he backed away.
"You're going to be late," he murmured.
Lorelai stood at the desk cradling the phone in one ear, and a pen held to the guest ledger in another. They were short-staffed, and the Inn was still booked to capacity from the holiday. Mia was still in the process of sorting through resumes, so in the meantime Lorelai was jumping in for extra shifts whenever she could.
She was so busy in fact, that Luke's brooding behavior from earlier fell to the back of her mind. She was deep in problem solving mode: tracking down a late linen delivery and calling for the driveway to be salted in preparation for an approaching winter storm.
With both issues quickly sorted, she finally had a bit of a breather. Not for the first time that afternoon, she craved a hit of caffeine. She glanced around the busy lobby and realized there was no way she could abandon desk duties for more than a few minutes. Resigning herself to sticking it out for the rest of the 45 minutes left on her shift without the extra jolt, she blew out a frustrated breath and took a seat on a stool.
She began to daydream about the magical winter break she'd shared with her daughter and boyfriend. The domestic portrait that they had presented lately: around the town, at home on the couch watching a movie, or simply around her kitchen table, was one that filled her with immense pleasure. She wasn't particularly good at this type of thing. Dating, that is. Not that she'd done much of it as a full-fledged adult. The few experiences she did have however, didn't exactly fill her with that same warm, fuzzy, familiar feeling inside.
She missed him. 3 hours away from him, and she missed him. God, was she pathetic. Still in her Luke-daze, the phone rang and she picked it up. Within moments, she immediately regretted that decision.
"What day is it?"
Lorelai groaned. She looked down at the calendar, "The uh–8th."
Emily continued unperturbed, "That's right. The 8th. We just arrived home from the airport. The flight was awful. Children, kicking and screaming the entire flight home behind us. We heard the disturbance all the way up in First Class. Your father barely got any rest, he's exhausted."
Lorelai rolled her eyes, "Welcome home."
"Thank you," Emily replied in a haughty tone, "I had assumed you'd forgotten."
"Nope, I had it circled right on my calendar in red ink and everything."
"Well there was no note left, no message on the machine."
"It's barely three o'clock, mom, I was going to call over there tonight."
"A promise was made to us before your father and I departed on our trip. You were to leave us a message with your availability. And yet, here we are."
"Mom," Lorelai groaned, "You just met him. Do we really need to do the whole song and dance again?"
"That was a social engagement, Lorelai. We must re-meet him."
"But," She sputtered, "You just met him!"
"My pen is poised, Lorelai."
She squeezed her eyes closed and rubbed her forehead. With a sickeningly sweet tone replied, "How does next Friday sound?"
Luke pulled into the driveway off of Peach Street with a crunch against the gravel. The winter sun was waning in the distance, and Lorelai was uncharacteristically quiet next to him. He killed the engine and turned to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes.
"Hey," he murmured. He recalled their previous encounter from earlier, when she had so easily picked up on his distracted mood. "You ok?"
"My parents want to have dinner with us next week," she blurted out.
Luke nodded, "Well we knew this was comin' up right? They said as much when we left that night."
Lorelai groaned, "But I thought we could get a few more weeks, months maybe, without having to throw ourselves at their feet again."
"It wasn't so bad."
"So says the hot-shot who practically had the whole room wagging their tongue out at them all night."
Luke dropped his eyes to his lap, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I don't exactly remember it like that."
"What do you remember?"
Luke shot her a smoldering look that had her heart-rate speed up, "You," He visibly gulped, "Red dress."
An almost magnetic pull drew them together.
A knock on the window quickly tore them apart.
Lorelai cranked the window down and Debbie Fincher leaned in, "Lorelai! Just the girl we can't shut up about." She looked across the bench seat at Luke, and shot Lorelai a wink, "And Luke. You're just on time."
Debbie stepped away from the truck and Lorelai shot him a look, silently promising to fill him in on the subtext later. Wordlessly, she followed Debbie inside of the brick colonial.
Luke hung back, leaning against the truck with his arms folded across his chest. He watched as a few other parents filtered out of the house, their daughters skipping ahead swinging bedazzled goodie bags.
A woman with long wavy auburn hair in a swishy ponytail instantly came over to his side. "I know that's not Luke Danes standing outside of a kids birthday party." She wore a teasing grin on her lips and gave him a one armed hug in greeting.
"Sarah? When did you get back into town?"
"Thomas just started at a new firm. We closed on a place in Woodbridge down the street from my parents' condo right before Christmas." Sarah rustled her daughter's hair, "You remember Stacey don't you?"
"Uh, yeah I think the last time I saw you, you were barely a toddler."
Sarah flashed a nostalgic smile his way. "You and Rach came over to visit when we lived in that tiny apartment in New York. Two seniors in high school, I bet we gave you both a lifetime of birth control that day."
Luke nodded politely, "It's um, it's nice to see you. The both of you," He corrected, "Stop by the diner sometime."
Sarah's voice took on a tone that dripped with sympathy, "I heard you opened a restaurant at your dad's old place. Good for you."
Lorelai and Rory walked towards the parked truck arm in arm. She stopped short when she noticed a beautiful woman engaged in conversation with Luke.
"Um, hey," She offered a short wave.
"Hey back," Luke kissed her cheek, and squeezed Rory's shoulder. He clocked the curious look on Sarah's face and introduced them to each other.
Lorelai held a tight smile, "So how do you two know each other?"
"Oh I've known Luke since he was a kid. He used to skate around the neighborhood causing trouble with the rest of 'em his age."
"Skate?" Lorelai quirked an eyebrow.
Sarah laughed, "He thought he was so cool carrying around that skateboard in his hand, a baseball glove in the other. Rach must have photos somewhere."
Luke rolled his eyes, "I was cool."
Rory piped up, "Still are!"
Luke couldn't help the smile that appeared on his lips, "Thanks Rory."
"He also dated my sister in high school."
Luke met her eyes evenly, "It was a long time ago."
"It was," She agreed.
A cold breeze picked up. "Well, we better get going," Sarah smiled at Luke, "It was really nice to see you again Luke. You look…happy."
Luke helped Rory and Lorelai into the truck, closing the door with a thud. He climbed up on the opposite side and promptly blasted the heater.
"So how does Sniffy's sound?"
Luke trudged up the stairs to his apartment much later that evening. He'd taken the girls to Sniffy's, where Maisy and Bud promptly served them a smorgasboard. They left with two bags full of leftovers and heaping slices of German chocolate cake that the girls devoured over an 80's movie. Luke really hadn't paid attention to what was on the screen. His mind was still reeling from the letter that had arrived in his mailbox that morning.
The energy filled day having finally caught up with her, Rory snoozed peacefully on the arm chair while the credits rolled. He went through the typical evening routine with Lorelai. As she shuffled Rory into her room, Luke cleaned up around the living room and turned on the coffee machine for the next morning. They met at the bottom of the staircase, where Lorelai tugged on the tail of his flannel and kissed him with determination. She whispered in his ear and placed another kiss there to further entice him upstairs.
"I've got really early deliveries tomorrow," He murmured as he pulled away from her.
She pouted but begrudgingly let him go. Squeezed his hands, and pressed one more quick kiss to his lips. With eyes sparkling she made him promise to save her the first cherry danish of the day in order to make up for his absence.
Luke laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come, trying to let the stillness and silence of the night engulf him.
Luke looked down at his cleats. Once a shiny white color, they were stained from the powdery soft Siena-colored dirt. He lifted his eyes and concentrated on his target. Paying close attention to the way he raised his bat up in the air and rocked his stance lightly back and forth in a well practiced manner.
Chip Parker was an all-star by all accounts. With a decade in the league under his belt, his cockiness on and off the field spoke volumes. Chip was a Yankee. He had a thick New York accent, neatly trimmed goatee, and a closely cropped haircut. He wore diamond studs in his ears and walked with a swagger.
Luke and Chip had an unspoken rivalry between them. They'd only actually met a handful of times. The first time was in a flashy New York bar after Luke's team had lost their game. Chip sent over five bottles of Dom Perignon, one for each home run he'd smashed.
The second time was–more personal. Luke had met a girl.
Camille was tall and lithe, he'd met her at a New Years Eve party. She had a golden tan that was well preserved all year round. Her voluminous, highlighted hair always looked freshly blown out, with it's stylish layers grazing her shoulders. She was a runway model. Constantly traveling around the world. Their relationship, or lack thereof, was neither serious nor exactly defined. In any case, Camille was fun. Exotic. Had a worldly air about her that Luke found intriguing among the nameless faces he'd met on the road.
Camille was a beautiful distraction.
And without any deeper feelings there, he was able to relax with her without any demands other girls made. She'd fly in and out of his life, and bed, in a cloud of expensive perfume. Leaving behind a monogrammed note scribbled with a phone number in the next city she was hitting, and few pink lipstick kisses.
It was a whirlwind three month game of cat and mouse.
Camille was effortlessly confident. Supremely sexy. The type of girl who'd wear a baseball cap with a ball gown and have it splashed onto magazine covers as a new fashion trend.
Unbeknownst to him at the time though, she was also sleeping with Chip Parker.
Luke was dining with a few buddies a hip restaurant in Boston. Not exactly his chosen scene, but his press agent had suggested he become a little more present around town in the days leading up to what people were referring to as 'The Big Game." The Yankees were back in town, and they were due to play their final game against the Sox before the playoffs the next day.
Luke nursed his drink while the guys at the table were engaged in some kind of boisterous conversation. He finished off whatever drink was in front of him, and politely added his two cents. But truth be told, Luke just wanted to go home. He was about to throw some cash on the table and bolt, when two manicured hands covered his eyes from behind.
"Surprise," She whispered in his ear. The scent of her perfume–rich and heady filled his scenes. She kissed his cheek with pursed lips and saluted the guys at the table in greeting. Instantly took a seat on his lap and flagged down a waiter for a Vodka tonic wearing a smile that could get a guy to do anything.
Chip Parker and his posse soon walked in. Camille had shifted into a vacant seat with Luke's arm draped around her shoulders. Her hand on his thigh, and head thrown back in laughter.
With several drinks in his system, Luke was practically buzzing.
Chip walked up to their table. Luke raised from his chair. Words were exchanged. A punch was thrown. Or was it two?
The next day, with a raging hangover, Luke pitched a record no-hitter. A black and white photograph with Luke hoisted into the air, his nose bruised and bloodied, two fist pumped in the air, a smug smile on his face, soon became memorialized forever on the front page of the Boston Globe.
THE UNTOUCHABLE BUTCH DANES
Six months later, his dad's diagnosis grew dire. Within a year, Luke had quietly quit the league, feeling not so untouchable anymore.
As for his part, Chip ended that year with two trophies: a World Series ring and Camille on his arm.
Luke turned over onto his side. Then flipped over onto his back again. With an annoyed groan, he pulled the chain on his bedside lamp and grabbed the letter from his nightstand, holding onto it with two white fists.
A/N I hope the flashback/dream sequence was clear at the end here! More where that came from...