A/N Hi y'all, thank you so much for the reviews. We're just getting started! Introducing a couple of OC characters in this chapter. Enjoy :)
Luke trudged up the front porch cradling a large carryout bag from the diner in one arm. He brought his calloused fist up to the cheery red door and knocked twice. He heard some shuffling from the inside and a woman's voice loudly exclaim, "Would you get up off of the couch and answer that!"
He smirked, and a few moments later the door swung open. His grandfather had a leather-bound book tucked under one arm, a mischievous grin on his face. He hollered over his shoulder, "It's just Butch!"
Rolling his eyes at the nickname, Luke nodded towards his granddad in greeting, "I warned you about that, Pops" he said before brushing past him on his way into the kitchen.
"I told you I was bringing dinner," Luke groaned as he eyed the platters of creamy mashed potatoes, maple glazed brussel sprouts, and a roasted zucchini salad that his grandmother was busy assembling.
She shook her head stubbornly, "Lucas, I taught you how to cook, and I'm going to keep teachin' you how."
He smiled at the woman in front of him. "Nonna–"
Norah Danes wiped her hands on the patterned apron tied around her waist and looked up to smile broadly at her beloved grandson, grasping his face in her soft hands, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners, "Lucas," she paused, rubbing her hands against his stubbly cheeks, "I told you to shave, you have such a beautiful face, it's shame you insist on covering it all up."
Luke sighed and stepped back to unload the food he brought along, "I made pot roast, garlic rosemary bread, that caprese tart with roasted tomatoes you like so much, and boysenberry pie for dessert."
Norah moved from her spot to grab a beer out of the fridge. She popped the top off and walked back over to Luke, handing it to him, "You cook all day long Lucas, now go on and sit with your Grandfather, now let me take over."
She peered into the containers Luke brought over with a critical eyebrow raised, "Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks," she murmured to herself.
Norah and Lionel Danes lived on the edge of town at 19 Spruce Street, a white shingled 2 story Cape Cod style house with a front porch and bright red door. On the gravel driveway sat Lewis's beige Ford F-100 and Norah's navy blue Cadillac Seville.
The inside of the house hadn't changed in the slightest since Luke was a kid, he always felt an instant sense of calm when he walked over the threshold and stood in the narrow foyer. To the right was a wide archway leading into a sunken living room with dark wood plank floors and a large olive green and cranberry red oriental style rug in the center of the room.
A large saddle-brown leather perfectly broken in sectional sofa wrapped around a large square wooden coffee table with ornate carvings on all four sides. Fishing magazines and Reader's Digests were neatly stacked alongside a caddy holding various different remote controls and spare pens. There was a wide stone fireplace hearth on the wall opposite the sofa, flanked by tall wooden bookcases filled with family treasures and photographs, a record player sat on its own table and a TV stand sat in the corner with a newer television on top.
A few steps from the living room was a dining room, connected to the eat-in kitchen with a plate-glass door that led to the large backyard. A wood paneled study and a small half-bathroom rounded out the first floor. The wooden staircase in the center of the house led upstairs to 3 more bedrooms and 2 more bathrooms.
Luke walked into the living room with his beer dangling from his finger tips, he sat down on the sofa with a relaxed sigh, and looked over at his grandfather with his nose buried in a book.
"Yeats?"
"Whitman," Lionel answered as he followed his finger down the page. When he reached the bottom of the page, he nodded to himself and reached for the well worn bookmark next to him, sliding it into the spine easily and closing the book.
"So fill me in, how's the 'ol diner running?"
Luke took a long sip of his beer and nodded, "Good, it's hard to believe, but it's coming up on two years since I opened it."
Lionel smiled at the young boy-turned-man sitting next to him, "I'm proud of you Lucas, building something like that from the ground up."
Luke drained his beer and set it carefully on top of a coaster, "Thanks, Pops"
"He'd be really proud of you too," Lionel said softly.
"Eh, I don't know about that," Luke mumbled uneasily.
Lionel leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, staring straight into his grandson's eyes in earnest, "He was proud of you then, and he'd be so proud of you now."
"I hope so," Luke said, meeting his grandfather's hazel eyes.
"Dinner's ready and you better be hungry! Especially you, Lucas!"
Both Danes' men shared a smile and walked towards the dining room, Lionel patting Luke's back comfortingly.
Norah smiled as she broke off another piece of her grandson's caprese tart and listened to Luke and Lionel converse.
"She sure does sound like a firecracker, Lucas."
Luke blushed ever so slightly, cleared his throat, and took a sip from his water glass "Nah, she's the whole box of fireworks. A real piece of work."
Lionel and Norah locked eyes across the dining table and shared a knowing look. This was not the first time one Lorelai Gilmore came up in conversation. In fact, she was the lead in pretty much all of Luke's stories these days. Her, and her brilliantly bookish daughter Rory.
"Well I happen to know from experience that it's the tough ones that are well worth the crazy that they throw at you," Lionel answered.
Luke narrowed his eyes at his grandfather, "What're you implying Pops?"
"Well you…and this real piece of work…"
"Lorelai," Luke stated.
Lionel nodded, "Lorelai, well, that's an awfully pretty name."
Luke gave a non-committed one shouldered shrug and dug into the pot roast on his plate, "Yeah, I guess so."
Lionel fixed his grandson with a classic Danes' pointed look. His chin tucked into his chest, peering at him over top of the thin gold rectangular frames of his eyeglasses that sat perched on the tip of his nose, "You like her."
"Huh?" Luke whipped his head up, his fork hovering over his plate.
"That wasn't a question, son."
"Pops," Luke started, shaking his head furiously.
"Lucas," Norah spoke up after minutes of uncharacteristic silence from her end of the table, "Invite her over," She picked up her glass of red wine and daintily took a sip before fixing her own eyes at the man who sat to her left, looking utterly boyish and nervous, "That wasn't a question either."
The first day of school was Rory Gilmore's favorite day of the year. September 4, 1993 started out like every other first day of school she could remember. She woke up extra early with a jolt of natural energy, triple-checking her backpack and making sure each of the 6 pre-sharpened pencils she kept zipped in her pencil pouch were extra sharp, ready to scribble down in her brand new Hello Kitty wide-ruled notebook.
With a triumphant smile, she marched over to her bookcase and pulled out a well worn paperback copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and a hardcover copy of Emma she scored at the thrift store with her mother the week before. Satisfied with her choices of lunchtime and recess reads, she slid them into the large compartment of her bag and pulled the zipper closed.
With a grunt, she pulled the heavy bag off of her bed and quickly smoothed down her bedspread. She slid her sock-covered feet into a pair of brand new sneakers embroidered with little butterflies, a back to school gift from her mother, and walked into the kitchen.
Rory listened for the tell-tale sound of the water rushing through the old pipes, signifying the start of her mother's morning routine, but all was silent in the house. With an annoyed sigh and a quick glance at the clock above the stove, she set her backpack down and rushed up the steps to her mother's room.
"Mom?" Rory rapped on the door once, then tested the doorknob, "Mom, c'mon we're going to be late!"
Rory spotted her mother's sleeping form curled up on her side, her breath steady and even, "Mom!"
Lorelai's eyes opened in surprise before letting out an annoyed groan, rolling onto her stomach and pulling the covers over her head, "G'way" she mumbled.
"Mom," Rory whined, stomping towards the bed and pulling the covers off her mother, "Do you know what day it is?"
"Ugh, Rory, what time is it?"
"I told you, we're gonna be late, so hurry, hurry!"
"Rory. Time. Now."
"6:30."
"Rory!"
"What?"
Lorelai slowly sat up, pushing her wild curls out of her face and leaning back against the a mountain of pillows, "School doesn't start until 8:30."
"But, it's the first day! I need to get there early, you know how important choosing the right desk is…"
"Your stuck with it all year, right, I got it," Lorelai finished for her with a sigh, "Man, I gotta stop teaching you stuff, I give an inch and you take a mile."
Rory gave her mom an innocent smile, "Why, whatever do you mean Miss Crankypants?"
Lorelai was just about to slide back down into the warm comfort of her bed, but Rory was too quick, grasping her arm between both of her hands and attempted to pull her mother up and out of bed.
"Ok, ok, watch your damage Heather," Lorelai muttered as she shuffled towards the bathroom.
When Rory finally heard the water whoosh through the pipes and her mother's sing-songy voice belt out the first few lyrics to "Manic Monday," Rory finally let out the long breath she was holding onto.
"An hour and 14 minutes," she whispered to herself with a grin.
Eight hours later, and Rory officially hated the first day of school.
When she bolted into Miss Gordon's third grade class that morning after hugging her mother goodbye, she had eyed the front row of formica-topped desks with her brow furrowed in concentration.
She quickly assessed the pro's and con's of each of them, first marching up to the one front of center. She tested it's sturdiness but narrowed her eyes when she noticed one of the legs was slightly off kilter. Instantly crossing that one on her list, she moved down the row, each one worse than the next.
"Permanent marker streaks, hairline crack down the left side, too close to the swiveling fan," she muttered under her breath.
"Bingo," she finally said with a small smile, eying the desk all the way to the left side next to the window, "Smooth and sturdy surface," she said, smoothing a hand over the spotless top, "Perfect view to the front of the room, not too much neck craning towards the bookshelves, and decent view right into circular driveway of the school."
Rory plopped her backpack down onto the ground as she slid into the blue plastic chair and sighed happily, taking in the blackboard for the first time, "Rock Your First Day of Fourth Grade" was written in big bold letters.
She looked around at the empty room and drummed her fingers on the desk as she eyed the clock above the door and willed the minutes to pass by quickly.
A few moments later, a woman walked into the classroom holding a stack of name tags in bright colors cut into the shapes of musical instruments in her arms, "Oh, hello there," She exclaimed with a wide smile, "You're quite the early bird!"
Rory ducked her head self consciously and clasped her hands together nervously, "Hi."
The teacher smiled at the shy girl in front of her and set the name tags down on top of her desk, "I'm Miss Gordon, welcome to fourth grade. And who might you be?"
Rory cleared her throat and fiddled with the edge of her notebook, "I'm Rory Gilmore, well, Lorelai's my real name, but everyone calls me Rory."
"Rory Gilmore," Miss Gordon paused, thumbing through the name tags, searching for her name. She pulled out an electric guitar shaped tag with Lorelai in bubble letters printed on the front, frowned, and picked up a blank one, quickly re-doing it to read Rory instead. "Do you want to do the honors of placing this on your desk?"
Rory nodded excitedly and stood up to take the tag and a few pieces of Scotch tape that her teacher offered her.
What started out as a pleasant morning quickly took a nosedive. The freshly sharpened lead on 5 out of 6 of her pre-sharpened glittery #2 pencils broke off while she was filling out her Get To Know Me worksheet. She got stuck with Kenny Jensen as her partner and he insisted on breathing his stinky tuna fish breath directly in her face as they flitted around the room collecting clues for the Around The Room Trivia. He was more interested in trying to tug on one of her pigtails then help answer the question taped to the skeleton in the corner of the room, How many bones are there in the human body? Kenny grabbed the marker out of her hand and scribbled down "4," she sighed in annoyance and tried to cross it out, but Miss Gordon said they were only allowed one final answer per group.
Rory and Kenny came in last place.
During recess, she tripped over her shoelaces as she skipped onto the playground, sending her new copy of Emma tumbling right into the dirt.
And, at the end of her terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, Rory Gilmore stepped outside of Stars Hollow Elementary's double doors that afternoon at 3:00pm sharp and suddenly had no place to go.
Mrs. Kim was supposed to pick her and Lane up that afternoon but that plan was nixed when Lane got sent home early due to food poisoning. She sent a silent prayer up that she didn't even attempt to taste the culprit– a Tofurkey sandwich, that was packed in Lane's lunch that day.
She knew she should call her mother. But instead of marching back inside the building asking Mrs. Lundy in the office to borrow the phone like she knew she should, Rory Gilmore kept walking until she reached the edge of the school grounds.
She took a deep breath and then stepped one foot off of the curb, looking to her right and left to check for ongoing traffic, before crossing the street and heading straight for the place she knew could turn her whole day around.
Luke sat on a stool behind the counter, an old toaster cradled in his arms, his eyes downcast, brows furrowed in concentration as he twirled a screwdriver determinedly.
He was so focused on his task he didn't even lift his gaze to look over at the who it was entering the diner during the afternoon lull, the bells jingling loudly.
"Anywhere's free, I'll be with you in a minute," He grumbled as he messed with the toaster some more.
"Anywhere?"
Luke whipped his head up at the sound of the little girl's voice and took in her demeanor. Her shoulders were hunched, her normally bright blue eyes were dull, and she balanced a giant backpack on her shoulders. Luke set the toaster down and narrowed his eyes in confusion as he realized Rory was without a chaperone, "You lose your mother to an ice cream truck or something?"
Rory practically threw her bag onto the ground and kicked it weakly with one sneakered foot, ignoring his question.
Luke gave her a puzzled look and got up from his perch, skirting the counter to get to the young girl, "Rory?" He said more gently, his features softening.
Rory finally tore her eyes off the ground and met his gaze, she looked into his dark blue questioning eyes for a moment, a small frown forming on his lips. She opened her mouth to speak but a small sob escaped her lips instead, she started to crumple, her cries overtaking her, but Luke caught her in his arms and folded her against the hard wall of his chest, "Shh," he whispered after a few moments, trying to soothe her.
He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and placed another one on top of her hair, stroking the soft strands soothingly as she settled down. He felt wet spots on his flannel, and when her body stopped shaking and her cries turned into quiet whimpers, he pulled back to search her face. She sniffled and brought the heel of her hand up to her face, brushing away the tears self consciously, "Worst, day, ever," she huffed out.
"C'mon, let's sit," he shoved her backpack away with one foot and helped her into a seat at one of the empty tables, "I'll be right back."
He turned around and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with plate stacked high with double chocolate brownies and a tall glass of milk.
She gave him a watery smile as he set them down gingerly in front of her, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at her thoughtfully, "I was savin' those for your second dessert tonight but you look like you could use 'em now instead."
Rory chuckled softly, the sound escaping her lips quickly and she coughed, before picking up one of the brownies in front of her, taking a big bite and shrugging her shoulders.
Luke nodded and looked around at the still-empty diner, before taking the empty seat across from her.
"I have bad days too, y'know."
"But Luke, this was the worst day. And it was supposed to be the best one."
He gestured towards the almost empty plate with his head, "Well how's it rate now?"
She chugged down a few gulps of milk and met him with a small smile, "Mom says chocolate always helps on a bad day."
He rolled his eyes playfully at the young girl and leaned forward across the table, "Anyone I have to beat up?"
"Kirk for selling me and mom defective glittery pencils, Kenny Jenson for being the dumbest fourth grader alive, Tofurky, dumb dirt for ruining my new copy of Emma," Rory listed off.
"That's quite the list."
She nodded and finished the last drops of her milk.
"But Rory, today was the first day of school, right? You've been counting down the days for a month."
She nodded again.
"So all of that cra–stuff," he corrected himself, "Doesn't matter right? It's the start of a whole new school year. Fourth grade, that's a big one. Look, you even made me mark it on the calendar so I wouldn't forget to serve you 2 desserts."
"Cherry pie and double chocolate brownies," she said softly, holding up her plate.
He nodded, "That's right."
She smiled at his thoughtfulness but her gaze dropped to her lap, "Mom doesn't know I'm here."
"What!"
She shook her head, "She thinks I'm at Lane's."
"Rory!"
"Lane got sick earlier, something about bad tofurkey, I was supposed to go to her house after school but after that turned into a bust, I came here."
He gestured towards the phone on the wall behind the counter, "You should give her a call, she's gonna worry."
"Not yet…please? She's gonna know I had a bad day just from the sound of my voice and I just, I don't want to talk about it yet, ok?"
"I know Rory, but she's your mom, she has to know where you are."
"10 more minutes?"
He nodded and stood up from the table to walk back behind the counter. He took a few steps forward before turning back around at her, "If you need to talk, or y'know, not talk, I'll be right over there, ok?"
"Thanks, Luke," she said softly.
10 minutes later, Rory had unzipped her backpack and was seated at the same table in the diner, working diligently on her math worksheet.
"Rory, it's been 10 minutes."
"Just a few more minutes, Luke, I'm trying to figure out these last few questions," She said distractedly.
Luke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, he checked the time and felt the dread setting in as each minute ticked by that Lorelai had no idea where her daughter actually was right now.
He knew logically that Lorelai would be ok with Rory spending the afternoon at the diner, I mean, at least he hoped she'd be ok with it. She certainly spent a good portion of her own free afternoons annoying him at the counter. And at least Rory could entertain herself without following him around the diner, begging for coffee, annoying him with her latest bit, stealing bagels out of the case to start a game of bagel hockey…
Lorelai, he needed to call Lorelai. He couldn't leave her in the dark about Rory's whereabouts and it was looking like it was going to be a lot longer than 10 minutes before Rory felt up to making the call herself.
He pushed away any thoughts of overstepping, he was just looking out for his friend Lorelai's daughter, giving her a friendly heads-up.
"Need any help there, Rory?"
Rory didn't bother looking up from her work but shook her head 'No' but the pout on her face said 'yes'.
He walked over to the table littered with her Hello Kitty homework folder, glitter pens and bright yellow #2 pencils, taking a seat in his abandoned seat from earlier.
"So, what do we got here?"
"Division, ugh."
"Division huh," Luke said, picking up the worksheet and quickly checking over the answers she'd already filled out, "Rory you got these first ones all correct though."
"But they took me forever to do, I hate math, I wish we got English or Spelling homework tonight instead."
Luke chuckled, "I think you're the only kid who begs for homework."
She smiled self consciously and tucked a loose strand of hair that escaped her pig tail behind her ear, "I like a challenge."
He pointed to the worksheet with a calloused finger, "Well c'mon let's take on this challenge then, you've only got a few left."
Rory leaned in to listen to Luke intently as he came up with food-related ways to solve the rest of the division problems. She let out a laugh when he relayed a story to her that happened last week in the diner. He had baked 16 chocolate chips cookies and the girls ending up snacking on half of them. He asked Rory how many they had left him with, and she answered with a confident "8!"
Soon after, Luke picked up the phone receiver and walked backwards towards the storeroom, the long cord dragging against the floor.
"Independence Inn, Lorelai speaking."
"Lorelai?" He paused, "It's, uh, Luke."
She chuckled softly, "Uh, hey Luke, hi, what's up?" She picked up a pen and started to doodle on the blotter distractedly at the low sound of his voice.
Luke sat down on an overturned crate and bent over, placing his elbow on his thigh, leaning into the phone receiver and dropping his voice a decibel or two, "Um, I just, I wanted to call and tell you, well, just to let you know, that, uh, Rory's here. In the diner, she's in the diner and she's ok, but she's here and not, at her friend's house."
Lorelai dropped the pen, "What do you mean? She's at the diner? How'd she get there? Is she ok? Did something happen?"
"Lorelai, she's ok, she's here, she's doing her homework, she's good. I just, well, I didn't want you to worry."
She craned her head behind her, glancing at the clock and realizing she still had roughly 2 more hours of her shift, "Why didn't she call me? How long has been there?"
"She came in after school," He lowered his voice, "Look, she'll fill you in on the details when you get here for dinner but, uh, don't worry, ok? She's ok."
She smiled gratefully, "Thanks Luke, I owe you one."
"Don't worry about it, I just wanted to let you know, and y'know, now…you…know," he finished lamely, cursing himself under his breath at his awkwardness, "And you don't owe me anything."
"Oh Luke, c'mon, I'll share my brand new box of Mallomars with you, I'll let you polish off a whole sleeve and everything. Or Red Vines! I think I have half a package in my purse left over from when Rory and I went to see Jurassic Park this summer."
Luke grimaced, "Tempting, but I'm good on the Diabetic-induced coma cookies and the 2 month old package of stale candy."
She smiled, "Ok, no cookies, no candy, man you're high maintenance. But I'll think of something Mister, you're not getting off the hook that easy."
Rory was cleaning up the aftermath of her homework detriments from the tabletop when Luke walked out of the storeroom. There were a few more patrons in the diner by now, but luckily one of his newest hires, Mike, showed up to start his shift.
Luke bussed a few tables and took some orders at the counter, turning around to hand Mike the tickets, before dusting off his hands on his jeans and walking back over to Rory.
"So, uh, Rory," He said.
"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"You're all set," He said, "I mean, your mom, she knows you're here. She said you could hang here while she finishes up at the Inn."
Rory looked nervous and avoided his gaze, and he felt his heart clench, knowing he'd betrayed her trust but confident he made the right decision.
"Luke," She started.
"Rory, I'm sorry, but I had to…"
"No, I get it, it's ok, she had to know."
"She had to know, yeah."
"And she's not…mad? Right?"
Luke sunk down in a squat, meeting Rory's eyes directly, "Of course not. A little worried at first, sure. But I told her you're here and you're safe. She'll see you in a couple of hours for dinner. And she requested a double order of chili cheese fries as an appetizer so how mad could she be?" He said with a smirk.
She met his smirk, the chili cheese fries order was a good sign.
"So," He breathed out, happy that he hadn't hurt the little girl after all, "You all done with your homework?"
"Yup," She said with a decisive nod, "But don't worry Luke, you don't have to entertain me, you did enough already with the brownies and the homework help. Thank you, by the way, I don't know if I said that already but, thank you."
"You said it, I said you're welcome, we're all good kiddo," Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously as he glanced back at the kitchen, "Hey, you feel like helpin' me out with something?"
Rory perked up, she couldn't image what Luke could possibly ever need any help with. In her view, Luke could do anything, he was like a flannel-clad super hero, "Sure!"
Luke got up from the chair and offered a hand out to Rory, clasping her tiny one in his large hand tightly and walking her behind the end of the counter closest to the back of the diner so they could wash their hands side by side.
"We're behind the counter! Mom's gonna be so jealous."
"You, I can trust. Your mom would abuse her behind-the-counter privilege by slugging down all my coffee."
Rory smiled at Luke's affectionately gruff tone as went to retrieve a stool and set it down next to her, gesturing for her to take a seat. He gathered a homemade pie crust he had prepped earlier, glass bowl filled with freshly washed pitted cherries, a rolling pin, baking mat, a small bowl of flour, and one of granulated sugar. He set all of the ingredients down in front of her as she eyed the scene in front of her.
"But Luke, I can't cook!"
"Bake," he corrected her as he picked up an apron off of a hook and attempted to tie it around Rory's tiny waist, the ties going around her circumference several times before tying the slack in a big bow around her middle. She looked down and smiled at his attempt, "I can't do that either."
He quirked an eyebrow, "You read on an eighth grade level, I think you have the attention span to listen to me tell you what to do here."
She bit on her bottom lip nervously, "What if I mess it up?"
"You won't" He shrugged easily, stirring in sugar, cornstarch and lemon juice into the bowl of cherries. He handed her pre-measured spoonfuls of Vanilla and Almond extract and gestured for her to add them in.
She hesitantly took each spoonful and dumped them in quickly, meeting his gaze for approval.
With an encouraging nod, he stirred it all together quickly and then offered her the large wooden spoon to give it a try. She stuck her tongue between her teeth in concentration as she scraped the sides of the bowl and gave the mix a haphazard stir.
He took the bowl back from her a few moments later, and walked back into the kitchen to place it into one of the fridges to rest.
Sprinkling some flour on top of the large baking sheet that he had set up next, Luke rolled out one of the discs of chilled dough he had prepped earlier and formed it into circle expertly before placing it carefully in the pie dish. He showed Rory how to tuck it in with her fingers, making sure it was smooth and even.
With a bit more confidence, she eyed their handiwork and met Luke with a blinding smile, "This is fun!"
He smiled brightly at the little girl, a smidge of flour on her rosy cheek and gave her a playful wink, "I told you, if you can read, you can cook."
"Bake," she said, giving him a playful nudge as she corrected him.
He smiled and went to retrieve the pie filling from the fridge, setting down the cool bowl on the countertop and handing her a clean spoon. Together, they spooned every last drop and Luke dotted little pieces of butter on top.
"Ok, here's the tricky part," Luke said as he set another disc of chilled pie dough on the baking sheet, rolling it into another circle. He used a sharp knife to cut several strips of dough, and set them aside.
Rory watched him work with ease, "How'd you cut them so evenly?"
"Plenty of practice," He said before turning to her, "Ok, you ready to help me out kid?"
Rory nodded and Luke picked up her hands, guiding them in his own and they carefully set one row of strips over top of the filling, and threaded the other set over and under each other, pulling back when necessary to weave a pattern. He showed her how to press the edges of the strips down into the bottom of the pie crust to seal it off, then picked up a paring knife to easily trim off any of the excess.
Adding a bit more flare than usual, he handed her a fork, and they crimped the edges. She smiled as she focused on her work, and Luke picked up a pastry brush, dipped it into an egg wash, and handed it to her, making a gestural move with his hand to show her how to lightly brush it over top of the pie.
Leaning back for a moment, he looked over at Rory who had a proud look on her face, "Not bad for your first one, huh?"
"Are you kidding! It's beautiful, almost too beautiful to eat."
Luke gave her a side eye, "Now that's somethin' I thought I'd never hear a Gilmore girl say."
She chuckled and patted a hand up on his shoulder from her perch on the stool, "I said almost!"
Luke put the pie in the oven and helped untie the oversized apron from Rory's waist, "Thanks for your help today, kid."
Rory gave him a playful salute, "Anytime, Luke!"
"You about ready to sit down for dinner? Your mom should be here pretty soon," he said, ushering her to an empty table.
She nodded and took a seat, her smile growing as he set down a large glass of lemonade in front of her.
"Freshly squeezed?"
He gave her a pointed look, "You know I don't serve that other cra–stuff," He corrected yet again.
She took a long sip, adding an "Ahhhh," for effect, "This is definitely the good stuff."
Lorelai flew into the diner a few minutes later talking a mile a minute, "Sweet daughter of mine! Where are you!"
Rory smiled widely and shot both arms in the air, waving them around dramatically, "Hi Mom!"
Lorelai's face broke out into a grin and enveloped her daughter in her arms, giving her a firm kiss on top of her head before sliding into a seat across from her, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
"Bad day?"
"Should I ask you the same thing?"
Rory sighed and slurped down the rest of her drink, "Let's just say the first day of school is officially at the bottom of the list of favorite holidays from now on."
"Oh, kid," Lorelai muttered sadly, "Don't say that."
Lorelai hated to see her kid sad or disappointed in any way, and this sullen attitude about school was just so not her daughter.
"You want to talk about it?"
Rory shook her head, her pig tails bouncing with the rapid movement.
Lorelai sighed, searching her brain for any quips or bribes that might lure the information out of her daughter, "Well when you're ready…"
"To order?" Rory said, effectively cutting off this conversation for now.
Lorelai nodded and opened her menu, "Right, to order."
Mike came over with an order pad a few moments later, ready to take their order.
"Hi lades, what can I get you today?"
Lorelai looked at the young guy in front of them questioningly. She knew Luke had hired a few extra hands as business continued to pick up at the diner, but not seeing the flannel man in question taking their order himself really threw her.
"Where's the boss man?"
"He's got the night off, I'm taking the closing shift tonight."
"Hmph," Lorelai muttered, closing her menu and sliding out of her seat and walking back towards the counter.
"Mom! You don't have behind the counter privileges!"
"Shh," Lorelai said, stepping over the invisible line that separated customer from proprietor and ducked into the kitchen, spotting his backwards baseball cap in an instant, "Hey!"
Luke jumped at the sudden intrusion and turned around to fix her with a glare, "Lorelai! You shouldn't be back here!"
"I could say the same thing to you," She said, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.
Luke finished wrapping up the cherry pie that he and Rory had baked earlier, and placed it into a to-go bag, "I work here."
"Exactly."
"What's that mean?"
"It means that I haven't seen you…" She caught herself, "I haven't seen you since you called me and told me you took care of my daughter all afternoon. You said you'd see me here for dinner later, and now you're hiding back here with secret pies." She said, gesturing to the to-go bag.
"Mike's out there, he'll take your order and cook your burger and I'll even tell him to throw in some onion rings, ok?"
"No."
"No?"
"Luke!"
"What, Lorelai? What is with you?"
"This is Luke's Diner, and you are Luke, ergo, you should be back here making my burger with the extra special onion rings and extra large order of fries."
"I said nothing about an extra order of fries," He rolled the top of the brown bag and moved to brush past her but she stopped him with a hand to his chest, startling him, "I have to go, I'm going to be late," he said softly, praying she couldn't feel the hammering of his chest through the layers of flannel.
She stared at her hand against the brushed cotton of his checkered blue flannel and instantly pulled it back, meeting his dark blue questioning gaze, "Where are you going?"
"Out," He said, finally brushing past her and into the dining room.
She followed him close behind, "But Luke!"
"Lorelai, enough, I have to go. Mike will take your order."
"Why won't you tell me where you're going with that pie?"
"Is it our pie, Luke?!" Rory piped in.
Luke looked over at Rory, noticing the flickers of excitement dancing in her blue eyes.
"Uh," he said, one hand on the door handle.
"You guys have your own pie?" Lorelai said in a petulant tone, "How come she gets a special pie and I get a fake Luke's burger."
"Uh, yeah Rory, it's the one we made," he confirmed, ignoring Lorelai.
"Rory, what's in this pie?" She asked, turning to her daughter when she realized Luke's patience with her had run thin.
"It's cherry! We made it just us this afternoon, from scratch and everything!"
Lorelai's heart swelled when she thought of Luke, gruff, grumbly, ex-baseball playing, burger slinging, perpetually flannel-clad Luke, patiently teaching her daughter how to bake a pie, "Luke," she whispered, dropping any semblance of whine in her voice and looking over at the man in question.
At the sound of the soft tone of her voice saying his name like that, he felt his heart skip a beat, but didn't dare look over at her.
She swallowed thickly, "Um, you taking it for a walk around the block or something?"
Luke was, for once in his life, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood, "No, I'm, um, taking it somewhere."
"Why not here? Where we can all enjoy it?"
"Have you ever seen me eat pie?"
"There's a first time for everything. Luke! Look at Rory, the sweet little girl you made that pie with today. You're telling me you're going to deprive her of tasting the fruits of her labor?" She jibbed, "Get it? Fruits?"
Luke sighed, he knew he was getting backed into a corner here and Lorelai wasn't going to drop this as easy as he thought. He mentally calculated the risk of his next move, but decided to hell with it, what'd he have to lose? Besides, if he took them to this pie's intended destination, maybe he could really prove to his grandparents that Lorelai was just the pie-loving, coffee-obsessed, friend and customer he had told them all the stories about after all.
"Yeah, right." A little voice in the back of his mind said, taunting him.
"Fine," he grumbled, "You two comin' or not?"
And with that, Luke opened the door to the diner, leaving it ajar and stomped out onto the sidewalk.
Lorelai and Rory shared a quick look of intrigue before gathering their things haphazardly and bolting out the door after him.