Author's Note: This idea popped into my head during my annual Gilmore Girls re-watch this past fall and I haven't been able to let the idea go. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls.
2004
Luke slides a cup of coffee across the counter to me. I grab his hand before he can pull it away and entwine my fingers with his.
We've just arrived back at the diner after our romantic and very successful first date. Caesar had closed for Luke tonight, and he had turned off all the lights, except for the one behind the counter, right next to the coffee machine. Which, of course, I took as a sign when we walked in. I hadn't even had to ask Luke for coffee before he was at the machine, pouring me a cup.
"So, I guess Buddy is really the one I should thank for this coffee, huh?" I ask, reflecting on our dinner at Snuffy's Tavern.
Luke rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He rests his elbows on the countertop and leans in closer to me. The smell of his aftershave mingles with the smell of the coffee.
"Lorelai, Maisy and Buddy helped me open the diner. I'm still the one who's been making you the coffee all this time."
"Maybe so," I say between sips. "But if it weren't for them, you wouldn't have opened a diner to make coffee in. You'd still be running a hardware store and then you and I would've never met." I pause. "There never would've been a horoscope to keep in your wallet all these years."
Luke squeezes my hand. "Well, then I guess I better thank Maisy and Buddy."
"I better thank them, too."
Luke smirks. "Coffee's that good, huh?"
I feel my cheeks flush as I set down my cup. I run my finger slowly around the rim. "Yes, but I mean I should thank them for being the reason I met you."
"Yeah?" Luke asks hesitantly.
"Yeah."
My heart feels light and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It's a good feeling, being like this with Luke. Flirtatious and earnest, his hand warm in mine. It occurs to me that if I were to lean just slightly forward, I could kiss him. Then it occurs to me that there's nothing to stop me from kissing him now.
So I do. I lean across the counter, closing the small gap between us. Luke responds right away, bringing his free hand to my cheek. The kiss is slow and languid, but full of promise that sends a thrill down my spine. When we pull away, he gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. My skin tingles from his touch. For some reason, I find myself thinking about how Maisy said that Luke never brought anyone to Snuffy's Tavern. But he brought me.
"So, when did you know you wanted to turn this place into a diner?" I ask him now, eager to learn more about his relationship to Maisy and Buddy.
"Before my dad died, actually."
That was certainly interesting. "Tell me more," I enquire.
Luke moves around the counter and sits on a stool next to me. I adjust myself so I'm facing him as he delves into the story.
"Yeah. He'd been sick for a long time. Diagnosed my senior year of high school, actually. And there was this unspoken understanding between us that after I graduated high school, I'd stick around to help him run the store, because with his deteriorating health he wasn't going to be able to handle it alone for long. And Liz was off in New York fingering her life out, so all he had was me."
He pauses for a moment, runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. Sensing that there is more, I say nothing and give Luke the space to keep going.
"He held on for another four or five years after that. Before he died, he told me that he could see that while I loved this place and running a business, I wasn't passionate about selling hardware. He gave me his reluctant blessing to convert the store into whatever business I wanted once he was gone."
From what little Luke has told me about his father over the years, this piece of information surprises me.
"Did you tell him you wanted to turn it into a diner?" I ask. Luke nods. "And?"
"He told me I was crazy for wanting to go into food service." He chuckles softly and shrugs. "He was never one to mince words. But…he bought me the 'Luke's' sign that's out front before he died. It's the only part of the exterior that I changed."
"You and your dad were really close, huh?" I think out loud as I notice, not for the first time, the reverence by which Luke talks about his father.
"Not always," Luke admits. "It wasn't until my mom died and I took on a lot of the family responsibilities that he and I grew closer. Maisy taught me to cook, so I always had dinner on the table for my dad every night. And for Liz, when she was around. Plus, I helped him to run the store without him ever needing to ask. He never took that for granted."
Luke has opened up to me before, but never this much, and I want to know more. I am captivated by his story, eager to learn everything there was about him from the time before we met.
"Is that why you two grew closer? Because you were running the business together?"
"That's part of the reason. But also…my dad changed, too." Luke's voice turns soft. "After my mom died, he became a lot more involved in our lives. He came to my track meets at school. And…" Luke hesitates and meets my eyes briefly. "Let's just say I was kind of an intense kid growing up."
"No, I never would've guessed," I say, deadpan, and shoot Luke a wry glance.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. No big surprise. Anyway, that didn't exactly bode well with the cheery townsfolk of Stars Hollow."
"Sure," I say easily. Luke knew he didn't have to tell me about the eccentric personalities of this town.
"But my dad, he always stood up for me. Kind of like the way I tried to stand up for Jess. He always used to tell people that his son stood out as the one who was always willing to lend a hand, even in a town where everyone looked out for one another. At the time, it always bothered me that my dad felt like he had to defend me like that. But I know now that it was just that he was proud of me."
By Luke's distant expression, I can tell he is lost in long ago memories. But something…something about what he just said sticks out to me as familiar, and before I know it, I'm suddenly swept up by one of my own distant and long-forgotten memories.
And as the memory takes shape around me, I feel myself inhale sharply, which pulls Luke back to the present. He eyes me with concern. "Lorelai?"
"Hold on, Luke, wait a second. The - the horoscope. That's not - it's, that wasn't - " I'm at a loss for words, a rarity for me. "Oh, my god."
"What? What is it?" He places a hand on my shoulder.
"The horoscope. That wasn't the first time we met."
"Lorelai…"
"No. No, okay, Rory's nineteen so that means…." I mutter quietly to myself as I do the math. Then I grip his outstretched arm and meet his eyes. "Luke, we first met in your dad's hardware store almost twenty years ago."
1985
Rory is screaming her head off. Rory, my sweet, precious, teeny tiny angel baby, never colicky, never fussy, is screaming so loud that my parents can probably hear her despite being miles away in Hartford.
I am crying, too, but my tears streak down my cheeks hot and silent as I fight the panic building within me. I hold Rory in my arms, bouncing her up and down, rocking her back and forth, trying anything…everything, to make her feel better.
They were right, I can't help but think. I can't take care of Rory on my own. I'm not enough.
No. I scold myself immediately. I had to get my parents out of my head. If I couldn't calm down, how was I ever expected to get Rory to calm down?
My heart sinks when Mia opens the door to the potting shed twenty minutes later and Rory is still crying. This is it. She's come to kick us out. We've only been here a week, but Rory's cries are disturbing the guests. We'll need to find somewhere else to live. Or worse, go back to Hartford.
But instead, Mia's look of concern quickly morphs into compassion when she sees not one, but two Gilmores crying alone in the dark. She comes forward, gesturing for me to hand Rory over to her. I'm so overwhelmed I don't know what to do other than comply.
There's a tiny sofa in the corner of the potting shed that I've come to know as my bed in this last week. Mia grabs my elbow and kindly but firmly forces me to sit. She sits next to me, still rocking my baby girl.
Mia says nothing. I don't know if five minutes have passed or an hour, but slowly, Rory's cries start to lose their sense of urgency. The angry crease in her forehead softens and her blue eyes gleam in the early pre-dawn light. I gently wipe her cheeks dry.
"Good morning, baby girl," Mia coos to Rory. "Is that any way to treat your mother on her birthday?"
I haven't taken my eyes off Rory since I handed her to Mia. But I look up at the older woman now in surprise. She is smiling good-naturedly at Rory. She laughs softly when she sees my expression.
"Seventeen, hmm?" Mia says to me, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Oh, yes. I remember being seventeen."
"It's my first birthday as a mom," I say. I don't know why I say it. "I…I'm sorry. Did Rory wake all the guests?"
"Certainly not." Mia rises and walks over the window. The sun hasn't risen quite yet, but the sky has changed from inky black to a murky blue. She points to the daffodils that are planted not far from the potting shed. "I'm an early riser," Mia starts. "I like to walk in the early morning. It's quiet. Water my flowers. I was closeby, which is the only reason why I could hear Rory crying."
Mia likes the quiet of the mornings. This morning was anything but quiet. My heart drops again.
"Do Rory and I need to leave?" I come out and ask. Better to just rip off the band-aid.
Mia, who had been looking out the window at her daffodils, turns to face me. "Whyever would you think that, Lorelai? Because Rory was crying? Honey, babies cry."
Silent tears start to slip down my cheeks again, I can't help it. Back at home, while my parents never got mad at Rory for crying, they also never failed to make it known that it was my shortcomings as a young mother who couldn't provide for her daughter that were the reasons for my baby's cries. The guilt would eat me alive.
"Oh. Okay," I manage, although the tears don't stop.
Mia walks back over to where I am sitting on the couch. She hands me Rory. I hold my baby girl close.
The six months since Rory was born had been hell at home. My parents loved Rory, but that was the problem. Everyday I could feel them digging their heels in deeper and deeper when it came to Rory; I could feel all sense of control slipping through my fingers like sand. My parents trying to control my life was one thing. But them trying to control Rory's was where I drew the line. So when I refused to marry Christopher and talk of surrendering over legal guardianship of Rory came up instead, that's when I was gone.
Charlotte, one of my mother's many revolving maids, had once told me about one Mia Bass and the Independence Inn where she used to work when she was younger. She always spoke so fondly of Mia and how she treated all her staff like family. Charlotte had never said so outright, but she often implied that Mia had gone to great lengths to help her when she was younger.
So, one week before my seventeenth birthday, I'd packed a few light bags, put Rory in her stroller, and we took a taxi to Stars Hollow and never looked back.
My parents knew where I was. I'd told them in the note I left them. But I threatened to file for emancipation if they tried to use law enforcement to bring me home. So far, they haven't done that. I knew there was nothing to stop them if they really wanted, but I was betting on them being more concerned with saving face. I've spoken to my mother once on the phone, to let her know I got here safely, and we haven't spoken since.
Charlotte had been right about Mia, though. When I showed up at the Independence Inn, begging for a room in exchange for working around the inn, Mia had agreed with little coercion. We worked out the details, but Mia never asked any questions. Which is probably why I'd ended up telling her everything anyway. She was so generous and kind, like Charlotte said.
So, I guess it shouldn't surprise me that Mia isn't kicking us out. She isn't my mother, after all. If one of my mother's maids disrupted her life the way Rory and I were disrupting Mia's, she would've slammed the door behind them on their way out.
"I want you to take today off," Mia says now. I'm about to protest, but she puts her hand up to stop me. "Now, listen. We can get you back to work in the inn tomorrow. But honey, you are exhausted."
"I can still work, Mia," I attempt.
"Here's what I'm thinking," Mia says, ignoring my protests all together. "Since you've been here, you've either been turning over rooms or are shut away here in the potting shed, and I can see it taking a toll on you. So, I'll take care of Rory this morning. I want you to go out into town today, and take one day, just one day, to enjoy being seventeen. Rory and I will be waiting here for you when you get back."
"Mia, I…" I falter.
"I insist."
"But I don't know how."
Mia tucks a strand of hair behind my ear so she can see my face better. 'How to what, dear?"
"How to do that," I explain. "How to be seventeen. All I know how to be now is Rory's mom."
"Well that's just not true," Mia insists. "I've been watching you at the inn as you lug Rory around in that stroller. There's no doubt that you are an excellent mother, but you are so much more than just that. I've seen the way you treat the guests. You're kind, and charming, and generous. You're charismatic and you have an excellent sense of humor. The guests usually steer clear of the maids. But you…people just gravitate to you, Lorelai. And I've yet to see a single guest walk away from you who isn't smiling or laughing."
Warmth spreads through my chest at Mia's words. But I still hesitate. Going into town with no goal, no agenda feels daunting. And I meant what I said to Mia when I showed up here with Rory a week ago. I wanted to earn my keep and not rely on the sympathies of others to get by.
That gives me the idea.
"What if I were to go out and run errands for you?" I suggest, sitting up straighter. "I…I heard you talking to the concierge yesterday about some things that you need to pick up for the inn, right?"
It was perfect. Running errands for Mia would get me out into town like she wanted. But it would also give me a goal to accomplish and I'd be helping out Mia like she was trying to help me.
Mia's known me long enough now to know that I need this, so she doesn't protest. "Give me Rory while you go clean up and I'll write you a list, okay?"
Without thinking, I reach out and hug Mia, this stranger who I have only known for a week. I can't remember the last time I hugged my mother. "Thank you, Mia."
"Happy Birthday, Lorelai."
o-o-o
I glance up from the piece of paper that I am holding. The sign over the store in front of me reads William's Hardware. It is the second of five stops on my list, after Miss Patty's School of Ballet (to pick up some decorations for an upcoming wedding at the inn), but before Doose's Market and Stars Hollow Books. The last stop on the list is for Weston's Bakery where Mia insisted I go to get myself a cupcake for my birthday - her treat.
After I'd changed into new clothes and tamed my hair, Mia had presented me with two papers. One was the list of errands, the other was directions around Stars Hollow. Mia also lent me her car, explaining that while I wouldn't normally need it - Stars Hollow was apparently a very walkable town - at least this way I'd have some place to store everything that I was going to bring back to the inn.
The list for the hardware store includes several miscellaneous items, from picture hooks to vacuum bags. Mia said that my best bet would be to bring the list to the counter, tell them that Mia sent me, and they'd help me get everything I need.
Seems easy enough, I think as I push open the door. The store is small, but the wall to wall windows lining the front of the store illuminate the room with the early morning spring light and give it the illusion that it is bigger than it truly is.
Fiercely independent, I wander down a few of the short aisles, hunting for the things on the list instead of immediately asking for help. But it quickly becomes apparent to me that I could spend hours in here looking for everything I need, and the last thing I want to do is spend unnecessary time away from Rory because I was being stubborn and refused to ask for help.
So, I begrudgingly make my way to the counter. Sitting behind the register is a young man, maybe a year or two older than me, hunched over a textbook. He's wearing a baseball cap, and it's on backwards, two things that would never pass in the Gilmore household. It's silly, but it instantly makes me relax. This store, so warm with the sunlight spilling in and the soft, seafoam green walls and this boy's backwards baseball cap, is all so far from the world I ran so desperately from. It feels like a sign that this place, Stars Hollow, is where I want to be, where I want to call home.
The boy looks up from his textbook when he sees me approach. He makes eye contact with me, and I already know what he's thinking. He's surprised. He doesn't know me. Stars Hollow is a town where everybody knows everybody, so Mia had warned me I might get some glances as I walked through town.
After a moment of surprisingly intense eye contact that runs just a beat long enough to steal the air out of my lungs, he looks down at my hands, empty except for the list.
"Let me guess, you need help?" the boy says gruffly, but not unkindly.
"Um, yeah," I say lamely. "Mia told me to tell you that she sent me. She said you could help me find this stuff?" I hold out my list.
At the mention of Mia's name, the boy stands up straight. He's tall and broad-shouldered, I realize. He darts out from behind the counter. He silently takes my list from me and grabs a handbasket.
"Huh, I had no idea Mia has so much street cred around here," I ponder out loud as I follow the boy down one of the aisles. "I just came from Miss Patty's School of Ballet? She claimed to be consulting with her muse when I walked in, but as soon as I mentioned that Mia sent me, she was on her feet faster than Florence Griffith Joyner in her 200 meter silver-medal race."
The boy pauses and looks at me questioningly. Something about this place and this boy just makes me feel so comfortable that I'd momentarily forgotten that people who didn't know me were often surprised by my quick wit and ability to babble on and on. And on.
"I uh, watched a lot of Olympics last summer," I say by way of explanation. I leave out the part about being 7 months pregnant with little ability to do anything else but watch television while hiding away in my bedroom.
"Guess so," the boy says. He leads me down another aisle. He eyes my list, looking perplexed. "Your list just says 'screws'. What do you need to screw - "
"Dirty!"
"No," the boy quickly interjects. He averts his eyes and his cheeks flush deep red. "I was just asking, are they for drywall? Wood?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I can't help but tease.
The boy looks up again. He raises an eyebrow judgmentally, and I panic for a second, worried that I may have taken this a step too far. But then I notice the thinly veiled amusement in his eyes. A moment later, he caves and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. "Okay, I walked into that one," he admits.
"Yeah, you did," I agree, grinning. Then I look at the assortment of screws before me. "But, to answer your question, I don't know. Mia didn't say, so both, I guess."
"Okay, flathead or Phillips head?" he asks now.
"Umm, Steve's head," I quip.
He doesn't miss a beat this time. "You don't know. So, both then?"
"You're catching on," I say, pleased. "Now you know the drill. Oh, but do you know the hammer?" I watch as he silently drops a few different boxes in the basket. "Oh, come on! That one was funny!"
"Uh huh, you nailed it," the boy grouses. He bites his lip, fighting a smile.
I am briefly stunned silent. Apparently, the boy had already picked up on the fact that this was unlike me, and he turns his head in my direction, waiting expectantly.
"Oh, my god." I clutch his forearm. "Did you just…you just made a joke!"
"I'm aware," he says calmly, but I sense that he is pleased to have thrown me by meeting me at my level.
"Just checking," I tease. "I was starting to think you weren't capable."
The boy rolls his eyes genially. "Come on, what's next?" He looks at the list. "Vacuum bags."
I follow him into another aisle. Unlike the screws, Mia is very specific about what kind of vacuum bags she wants. But most of the items on the list are frustratingly vague. The boy asks me a hundred questions for each, patiently trying to help me figure out exactly what I needed while entertaining my humor as well.
By the time we are reaching the end of the list, I'm starting to wonder how many of these items were things that Mia actually needed and how much of it was extraneous to make it seem like I was doing a big favor. Oh, Mia.
"I'll, uh, make sure Mia is more specific with her list next time," I say apologetically as the boy adds the last item from the list to the basket.
The boy shrugs, unbothered. "No big deal. So, how do you know Mia anyway?" he asks, adjusting his cap.
"Oh, yeah. I actually just started working as a maid at the Independence Inn," I say proudly. "I just moved here from Hartford."
"Hartford?" the boy asks, surprised. He turns to face me. "Stars Hollow is a lot different from Hartford."
That was kind of the point, I think to myself. Out loud, I quip, "so I'm quickly learning."
The boy finally cracks a small smile. And it's so warm and kind that I am instantly compelled to try to make him smile again.
"Well, welcome to Stars Hollow, then," he says. We are standing by the large windows and he swoops his arm out in front of us where the center of town sits in full view. "This place definitely takes some getting used to but…I guess it's really not all that bad." He pauses, considers me for a moment, then sticks out his hand. "By the way, my name's L-"
"Son!" comes a voice.
"Ah geez," the boy mutters under his breath, turning in the direction of the voice. Then, "hey, dad, over here," he calls. He looks back to me. "Come on, we got everything from your list."
The boy leads me back to the counter where an older man, this boy's father, I presume, now stands behind the register. He eyes his son. "Why aren't you at school?"
"Hey, dad. How're you feeling?" the boy asks, ignoring the question. His words are casual, but I can sense worry in his tone.
"I'm okay," his father says to him dismissively. "You need to get to school. You're going to be late."
"Dad, it's almost the end of senior year. We're not even learning anything anymore," the boy protests. "It makes more sense for me to be here helping you out at the store."
"Son, we've been over this. I'm fine. I'll be okay." His tone is cajoling now. "But if you want to make the state championships, then you have to keep up with attendance."
The boy sighs and drops his head. "All right, all right, I'm going." Then he hands my list over to his dad. "Here, this is what she's buying." He turns back to face me. "You take Mia's car?" I nod. "I'll go put this stuff in the back for you."
"Thank you."
He nods then looks back at his dad again. He presses his lips together in worry. "I'll be back as soon as practice gets out this afternoon," he tells his father, who just waves him off as he continues punching numbers into his register.
I watch as the boy leaves, the bell ringing behind him, then slowly make my way up to the counter. I regard the man curiously. He and his son look remarkably alike, aside from the obvious fact that he is much older. But there also appears to be an underlying sense of fatigue that plagues him. I remember his son's concern and can't help but wonder if the man might be sick.
"Did I hear that you know Mia?" the man asks, smiling jovially at me. His voice is strong, at least.
"I do," I return his smile, "I just started working at the Independence Inn."
"Well, you're in good hands with Mia," the man says. "You tell her I said, hi."
"I will," I reply. I pull the wad of cash Mia gave me out of my pocket and hand the man enough cash to cover the sum listed on the register. The man hands me back my list.
"Take care," the man says.
I turn to leave, taking one last glance around the store with its big windows and soft green walls. As I am reaching for the door handle, a thought occurs to me.
"Are you William?" I blurt. "As in, William's Hardware?"
The man looks up in amusement. "Indeed I am."
"So…so this is your store then?"
"It is."
"I really like it," I say. "It's so…warm."
If William finds it at all odd that I think a hardware store feels warm, he doesn't show it. Instead, he looks across his store and nods his head in agreement. "Thank you very much young lady," he says sincerely.
I don't know why, but I'm compelled to say more. "And…and your son was very helpful and kind to me. I just… thought you should know."
William looks at me now. "We all take care of each other here in Stars Hollow. But even then, my son stands out amongst the rest," he says proudly. He regards me for a long moment. "He's always the first to lend a helping hand, but most people can't see past his gruff, reclusive exterior."
"I…I'm sorry," I stutter, surprised by William's candor.
"Don't be," he says and points at me. "You saw through it."
We say our goodbyes then, and I head out the door. There are more people out now, and I see several older kids headed towards the brick building that I assume must be the high school across the street. I feel a twinge of something twist in my gut. In another world, I would also be in school, just about to finish my junior year. But in that world, I wouldn't have Rory, and I wouldn't trade her for anything.
I take in the town of Stars Hollow before me. Now that the sun has risen, the spring morning feels hopeful and bright. There are flowers blooming everywhere and the sound of laughter and joy fill the streets. Yes, this was the kind of place that I wanted to call home. This was the place I wanted to be Rory's home.
I'm reaching for my list when the boy, William's son, approaches from my right.
"Okay, I loaded everything into Mia's car. She had some paper bags in the trunk, so I loaded the supplies in them so it would be easier for you to carry. I've got to get to school, but I can point out some of the places on your list for you," the boy offers. "Where are you off to next?"
Generous, indeed. His father was right. I try not to stare at this boy, who is only more intriguing to me now that his father shared that piece of knowledge with me. He was cute, too. I swallow and scan my list.
"Uh, Doose's Market?"
The boy nods. "That's right there," he points to a store with a green awning down the block from the hardware store. "That's run by Taylor Doose. He's a piece of work, but if you mention that Mia sent you, he won't bother you. He's afraid of Mia."
"Good to know."
He looks back down at my list. "And then, uh, the bookstore is just a little bit further in that same direction. And Weston's," the boy turns back in the direction of Miss Patty's, "is around that corner."
I take a step closer to him to see where he's pointing at the same moment that he turns back to look at me. His eyes, kind and bright, widen when he realizes how close we are now standing, but he doesn't move away. I feel my cheeks flush and my pulse quicken.
"Happy birthday, by the way," he says with an amused lilt.
"What? How did you - "
"Mia wrote it on the note," he explains and adjusts his cap anxiously. Of course. The birthday cupcake from Weston's. I'd forgotten all about that.
"Right," I say. "Thanks. Got any insider knowledge about which cupcakes are the best?" I ask, desperate for a reason to keep talking to him.
The boy grimaces. "I don't really like a lot of sweets. But my sister swears by the white chocolate raspberry one, if that's any help."
I look at him in exaggerated horror. "You don't like sweets? What kind of monster are you?"
The boy just rolls his eyes, but I sense a smile teasing at his lips, and I remember that desire I'd felt earlier to get him to smile again.
"The kind that has to stay fit for track and field championships," he explains. He's not showing off though; I already know that this boy didn't have that much vanity. No, he's just matching my conversational rhythm.
"You run?" I ask. He nods and I think back to a comment I made earlier. "How very Florence Griffith Joyner of you. Although, after what I saw at the ballet school earlier, I think Patty might give you a run - ha, get it? - for your money."
The boy breaks a full smile again, and I feel empowered by that small victory. I got the sense he didn't smile often, especially after what his dad said. But I'd gotten him to smile twice already. And it's so captivating that I feel myself smiling back at him in return. Something in my chest flutters.
And as we are standing there, smiling and saying nothing, there is a moment. It's undeniable.
But then, from around the other side of the hardware store, another teenage boy comes careening across the sidewalk. He barely slows down as he grabs my new friend by the elbow and begins dragging him in the direction of the school.
"Man, come on," the new boy says. "Coach said he wanted to meet us before homeroom, remember?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's right," he says distractedly to his friend before looking back at me. His smile has faltered, but there's still a shadow of it toying at the corner of his lips. His friend continues to tug him towards the school. "I have to go. See you around?" he says to me.
"See you around," I repeat, and watch as he and his friend turn and race up the stairs of the brick building. I don't take my eyes off of him until he has disappeared inside.
It's only then that I realize we never exchanged names. But that's okay, because I had a gut feeling we'd cross paths again someday. Maybe then we could learn each other's names and star signs and so much more.
o-o-o
Back at the Independence Inn, I find Mia bouncing Rory on her hip behind the reception desk. I eagerly accept my baby girl when she hands her to me. I'd been gone only two hours, but I'd missed Rory the whole time. I couldn't believe it was possible to love someone so much.
"How did it go?" Mia asks a moment later.
"I got everything," I say happily.
Mia rests a hand on my forearm. "Good, but I was asking if you got to feel seventeen at all while you were away?"
My thoughts immediately turn back to the boy in the backwards baseball cap with his bright eyes and captivating smile. Our easy back and forth banter, his generosity, and the words that felt like a promise - see you around. The undeniable moment when we did nothing but exchange loaded grins and the electricity that I felt thrum through my body as we stood impossibly close.
Mia regards me curiously. "Well?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, I did."
2004
"Luke, we first met in your dad's hardware store almost twenty years ago."
Luke tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"It was right after Rory and I came to Stars Hollow. Mia…she sent me into town one morning to run some errands for her, and oh, my god…" I can't contain my excitement, "the hardware store was on that list. And I met you. Yeah, I met you and your dad."
Luke leans back and regards me curiously. "How are you just now telling me this?"
"Hello…it was twenty years ago! And I had new-mom brain," I remind him defensively. "But what you just said. About what your dad would say about the town helping out one another but you doing it the most? He - he said that to me too. And I just…I just remembered. I can't believe I forgot!"
I jump off my stool and begin pacing back and forth in front of Luke. Between the coffee, first date jitters, and the exhilaration of my realization at recalling this memory, I can't sit still. My mind is a live wire. On the other hand, there's Luke, sitting perfectly still except to turn his head as he watches me pace, still with skeptical apprehension written all over his face.
"Are you sure I was there, too? Not just my dad?" Luke suggests. "Because I don't remember this at all."
"Oh, you were there, believe me." I stop pacing and point a finger at him. Luke raises his eyebrows. "You caught my attention that morning, Luke Danes," I say cheekily.
Luke frowns, and I can see him struggling to remember.
"Okay, okay," I jump in, ready to delve into the details. "So, I came into the store with a list from Mia and I gave it to you and you helped me find everything and then you loaded it all into Mia's car for me."
I watch Luke for a moment. Nothing.
"You pointed out the other shops on my list for me, and I remember asking you what the best cupcake at Weston's was because - "
"It was your birthday," Luke interrupts me softly.
I beam at Luke as I see him sit up tall now, clarity softening his features.
"You do remember."
"White chocolate raspberry." Luke pauses. "But I didn't know that was you," he admits, and I can sense a touch of embarrassment in his voice.
I shrug and try to reassure him. "I don't think we actually introduced ourselves that day."
Luke is silent for a long moment. I wait patiently for him to speak. "So…how did we not see each other again for, what, over ten years?"
"I don't know," I confess. I join him again at the counter, lowering myself back onto the stool. "I think, I mean…for the longest time, I wasn't really involved in the town outside of the inn. I was raising Rory and working my way up to becoming manager at the inn so I could buy a house. And a car. The most I ever came into town was to drop off and pick up Rory from school. And she took the bus most days."
Luke nods in assent. "Well, it also probably didn't help that I've never been all that involved in town functions either." One corner of his mouth screws up. "Until I met you, that is."
"I just love dragging you to those things," I laugh softly. "But anyway, as I was saying, I had Mia, and after a while I also had Sookie, so I had everything I needed. I had no reason to leave my safe space at the inn. It wasn't until after Rory and I moved into our own house that I really started coming into town more.
"I wasn't familiar with everything. But I recognized a few places from those rare occasions when I would come into town. I forgot completely about the hardware store, probably because by then it was gone. But I remember seeing the sign for your diner once, with the coffee cup sign and I wanted to come in so badly, but money was really tight back then. I couldn't justify buying myself some coffee when I could use that money to buy something for Rory instead."
I stop talking for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed by the serendipity of it all. It almost doesn't feel real.
As though he can sense the shift, Luke moves closer to me and I grip the top of his outstretched hand. He turns his hand in mine so that our palms meet and he curls his fingers over mine. I focus on our entwined hands. Solid, real. I lift my gaze back up to meet Luke's eyes. They watch me steadily and unwavering. Yes, this was real.
"What made you eventually decide to come into the diner?" Luke asks after a long moment.
"Hmm." I smile softly.
This was a memory I hadn't forgotten, because it was one of my favorites. I'd been secretly thrilled to hear Luke's perspective of the story with the horoscope earlier tonight and to learn that our first - er, second - meeting had left an impression on him as well.
"It was the day Mia told me she was moving out of Connecticut and was going to trust me to run the inn independently. I was honored, but I remember also feeling so…anxious about it that I had to go take a walk around town. I walked into your diner without even thinking about it."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, and even though I got loaded up on caffeine, I just remember that you in your backwards cap and this," I gesture around the diner, "this…space just made me feel so calm, so relaxed. All my anxiety about Mia's news went away. That's why I always kept coming back. For your coffee, but also you and your hat and this diner immediately felt like home to me. And its so crazy, because I remember now that that was exactly how I felt about you and the hardware store all those years ago, too."
I don't think I've ever been more open and honest with Luke. All my defenses are down, which is scary, but also immensely rewarding, especially when I look up to meet Luke's eyes and see the way he is looking at me. It's not much different than how he's always looked at me, only now his walls are down too, and I can feel everything he feels about me just by looking at his face.
"My hat, huh?" Luke remarks after a long moment, clearly struggling to keep a straight face.
A chuckle escapes my throat. "Oh yeah, it was the hat."
I immediately feel myself relax again, in that way that only Luke can do.
"What?" Luke says.
"I'm just thinking," I start, searching for the right words. "You know, it's crazy to think that if any number of things had gone differently in the past, we might not be here like this, right now. If…if I hadn't gotten pregnant with Rory, or if I'd stayed in Hartford. Or if you'd kept this place as a hardware store instead of turning it into a diner, we may have never met. Or, well, met again." I realize that I'm rambling, but Luke appears to still be following my train of thought, so I continue. "But, everything happened in this precise way so that I walked into your diner and pestered you for coffee. It just feels like fate, I guess."
Luke says nothing as he considers this. He presses his lips together in a thin line.
"You don't agree?" I ask in surprise, a twinge of hurt curling in my stomach.
Luke is quick to reassure me. "No, it's not that. It's just that I'd like to think that if things had gone differently, we still would've met each other somehow."
"Oh, Luke…" I whisper, touched. My feelings for this man grow impossibly stronger at these words.
"It's just, this feels…right, you know? Like we were meant to be in each other's lives, no matter the circumstances," Luke says passionately. "It didn't work out the first time we met, but it did the second time. And I'd like to believe if it hadn't worked out then, we would've met again when the timing was right. And I know it's taken years to get to this point, but I meant what I said at dinner, Lorelai. I am all in."
"I am all in, too. And the timing is right." I squeeze his hand. "Hey, Luke?"
"Yeah?"
I bite my lip. "Where's your baseball cap?"
Luke chuckles softly under his breath and he dips his head. When he looks up, the corners of his lips are teasing up in amusement.
There it is. Luke's captivating smile.
And it still makes my heart flutter, just like it did when I was seventeen.
Author's Note: Okay, so what started as a fun 'meet-cute' about Luke and Lorelai briefly meeting once when she first moved to Stars Hollow (and forgetting about it until years later) spiraled into a rabbit hole where I suddenly was compelled to start filling in a lot of details of the timeline between then and when she walks into his diner for the first time in desperate need for a caffeine fix years later. As I was writing the flashback, I found myself getting hung up on a lot of the unknowns. Especially about Luke. Like, how and when did his dad die and how long after that did he turn the hardware store into a diner? And how exactly could Luke and Lorelai live in the same town for over ten years before they first 'met'? So that's why a lot of this story ended up being just the two of them talking about the past and how they got to where they are now. Who knows, now that I've started building my own head-canon about those mysterious years from 'before' the pilot episode, I might write more for it. But for now, if you read this story, thank you and I really hope you liked it!