July 17

5 Months, 2 Weeks, 2 Days

LORELAI POV

It's been five days since I've moved in with Luke, and already, I can feel the effects the move has had on me. I can eat. I can sleep. I can go back into the diner. I'm back with the town. The clouds are parting, the birds are singing, and the food is fooding. Everything is starting to feel better. I wasn't aware that I was in a downward spiral until I clicked my ruby slippers together and the tornado came to a standstill.

When Tom and the crew started on the outside of the house, I fell right back into hosting mode. I ordered pizza and stood around and joked with them while they ate. The men are around a lot, laughing and joking and painting and boy, oh boy, do they have a lot of good things to say to me about Luke. All the sudden, out of seemingly nowhere, they'll start talking about how great Luke is. And while I don't disagree with the compliments, it's weird as hell.

"Are you even watching this?"

I snap back to the present to find Luke watching me from his leather chair to my left.

"Huh?"

"Are you watching this ridiculous movie you picked out that you've seen over a million times or are you just staring out into space?"

"First off, Casablanca isn't a ridiculous movie. It's a classic. And second, yes, Teach, I'm sorry, your furniture is distracting."

"My furniture is distracting?" he repeats slowly, confused. "How can furniture be distracting?"

I shift on the couch so I can rest my elbow on the armrest, and then cup my chin in my hand to look over at Luke. "It's too small for the house. It's proportionally wrong."

He 'pshs' me and takes a long drag of his beer before resting the bottom of the bottle on his thigh and looking back at the TV. My gaze takes its time to traverse up and down Luke's well toned chest and arms in admiration. He's clad in his signature nightwear: an army green t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. He looks good. Sexy. All those hormones people talk about swirling around pregnant women? Unfortunately, they couldn't be any truer. I'm practically salivating. If we were still together, I'd jump him. Like an hour or two ago.

I look away with a sigh, chagrined by my inability to stifle my attraction to the man a few feet away.

Living with Luke has been fine. And while we've gotten to an okay place together, most of the time, we're hardly here at the same time. We were both here my first night, and he's worked until closing all the proceeding nights until now. It's not like I don't see him. I do. He insists I come into the diner for breakfast and dinner. He's taking the whole finding out what I can eat and keep down very seriously. In fact, he keeps the list he started the other night folded up in his shirt pocket. At the end of every day, he asks what Sookie made for lunch and how I took it before adding the foods to their proper column. It seems as though he's getting a kick out of feeding me healthy food rather than my regular diet. Even though he doesn't tease me about it, every now and again I'll glance in his direction whenever I'm scarfing down whatever ridiculously healthy meal he's prepared for me, only to find him wiping down a table and smirking proudly in my direction. It's impossible to tell if he's proud he can make food I'll eat and my body will accept, or if he's proud because he finally wins and gets me to eat healthy food after all the years I told him it would be a cold day in hell before that'd happen.

Never say never, friends.

But really, the joke's on him. When my body becomes mine again, I'm going to make sure to be sitting directly across from him, and I'm going to scarf down a big, fat, juicy cheeseburger, a pile of greasy sizzling fries, and a huge mug of coffee.

I've managed to sleep like a baby (pun intended) every single night I've been here. I feel great, even with my now rapidly growing body and my swelling ankles. After my grilled chicken salad all those days ago, I called into work, informed Sookie I was taking the afternoon off, and wandered Hartford for maternity clothes. It was a challenge to find my 'Lorelai look', but after much searching, I found a hidden maternity boutique store that fit my needs. Now, dressed properly, Luke fully involved, and fully reintegrated with the town and the pregnancy just out there for all to see and comment on, being pregnant isn't really all that bad. Besides those first awkward moments in the diner the other day, a certain part of me likes the attention that comes with the pregnancy. Babette makes sure to find me at least once a day to talk to the babies. Kirk is trying to sell me 'revolutionary' baby items he thinks Little Thing One and Little Thing Two would love. Miss Patty hands me dance class schedules that start at eighteen months. Andrew gifts me a new kid book every time I see him.

"The furniture is not too small for the house. It's just fine," he grumbles. "Again, it's the bathroom til-"

"It is not the bathroom tile!" I cut in chagrined. "It's not the same thing at all! Your furniture is proportionally wrong and it's distracting."

"It's practical. All you have to do is sit on it."

"Dirty!" I mock gasp.

He shakes his head as if I'm being immature, but I see the way the corner of his lips turn up.

"It doesn't need to be fancy," he tries again. "It just needs to be practical."

"I'm not saying it needs to be fancy, Fancy Nancy, I'm just saying it would be nice if your furniture didn't look like the missing pieces from a Polly Pocket set."

He rolls his eyes, having no idea what I'm talking about. "I hate shopping. It's a pain in the ass. First, you have to find time in your already too busy schedule to go, then you have to physically go to all the stores with all the crazy people who either have screaming kids or have nowhere else to be and walk slower than molasses. And then, if you're lucky, you maybe leave with one or two things you're not sure you like but will work and then you've wasted all that time and all you have to show for it is a few items you'll just donate to a local charity in two years!" I smirk at his rant, loving every single moment of it. "I hate shopping!"

"And possibly debt," I point out, wanting to keep him going. "You could be buried beneath life suffocating debt too."

"Exactly, as if we need more material things to collect dust and a credit card bill that we can't pay off that the bank will benefit from," he rumbles deeply. He leans forward, eyes intense, though a bit playful. "All this wasted trouble just to put a couple pretty things in a house like a stupid clown pillow, a monkey lamp or a dancing rabbi-"

"Woah! Woah! Woah! Time out!" I laugh loudly throwing up a 't' with my hands in mock offense. "First off, that clown pillow is not stupi-"

"You're right, it's freaky!"

"It brings me joy," I laugh, pulling my legs up to my side on the couch. "It makes me smile!"

"It gave me three nightmares!"

"And I comforted you every time!"

He chuckles, falling back into his chair, slowing down our conversation and leading it away from our romance. "What kind of style is that anyway?"

"I don't know. Eclectic?"

"Yeah, well, you're definitely the queen of eclectic," he shakes his head before taking another sip of his beer, watching me with a smothering eye over the bottle. Hot damn. He lowers the bottle and swallows. "I'm not, so I'd rather not have those weird items around."

"So you want me to leave?" I tease. "Are you implying I'm weird and eclectic and want me to leave?"

"Not at all, and you're not weird," He looks away from me back to the TV and smirks. "You're crazy. Big difference."

"I'm going to be mature and choose to ignore your comment."

He shifts in his chair, a forearm coming to rest on top of his head. "It's best to ignore what you know to be true."

"You know what I love?" I pause to wait to see if he'll turn his attention back to me. He doesn't. Instead, he thumbs the sticker on his beer. "I love shopping," I watch and can see him processing what I'm implying as he stares at the TV screen. "It sure would be a shame to have this beautiful home only to lack the proper furniture. The paint colors and the attention to detail are gorgeous but you need to accent it with pops of color in your decor. You better be careful, Luke, or some couple from HGTV will come knocking on your do-"

"You're not going to shut up about this are you?"

"Not likely."

"Ok, fine!" he grumbles grumpily, shifting forward to grab his wallet from the coffee table. He fishes out a credit card and tosses it directly into my lap. "There, you happy? Go crazy, Crazy Lady!"

I stare at him in shock before a smirk rises to my lips as I pick up the credit card. Finally! Finally Luke is done playing Mr. Niceguy and is onto just being normal. I was getting exhausted just by the sheer effort of getting him here.

"Not exactly. This is your house, you're gonna have to go along to make sure you like what I buy. We aren't going to be doing any big reveals at the end where the semi is pulled away and a camera zooms in on your face and you start crying in disbelief while secretly hating the transformation."

He throws his head back against his chair. "I am not going along! Everything I picked out when we went shopping before, you didn't like! It took you three days to pick out your couch!"

"No. I picked out the couch the moment we entered the store. It took you three days to come to the conclusion that I was right even though you were concerned I was being too rash."

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. It's true.

"Come on, Luke, pretty soon I'm going to be too far along to go by myself anyway. Plus, I thought staying with you was supposed to be you making sure I'm okay? How are you going to know I'm okay if you're here and I'm out there all alone in the big bad world?"

"I should have known you'd milk this."

"You must have suffered a light concussion when you knocked your head open," I point to the spot on my temple to indicate where his head wound has begun to heal. "What happened to you anyway?"

"I fell out of bed and knocked it on the nightstand."

I frown. "You don't move when you sleep."

"Nightmare," he says dryly. He doesn't look at me. Instead, his attention drops to the label he's begun to peel off the bottle. Must have been some hell of a nightmare to warrant that kind of response.

"Listen, you gotta go with me. This is your house. Plus, if we don't do it we're just going to be sitting together awkwardly in your living room every night one of us isn't working late," I point out. "Come on, it'll be a way for me to pay you back for all the food you've been cooking and feeding me."

He exhales loudly, taking another long swig of his beer before pushing a hand down his thigh, his long fingers catching on his gray sweats. "Okay, fine."

July 19

5 Months, 2 Weeks, 4 Days

LUKE POV

I load a couple lamps into the back of Lorelai's Jeep before making my way back into the mall. When Lorelai and I went shopping for her house after the bedroom renovation, I learned she had a knack for home shopping and an eye for decorating. So this time, unlike last time, I plan on not getting in her way. Afterall, the woman has insisted that we decorate my house. I've decided the best thing for me to do is just let her go at it free reign so we can get this whole walking around stores over and done with. Plus, she seems to know exactly what the house needs and something about the perfect aesthetic. Whatever the hell that means.

So far, everything she's picked out, I like. And let me tell you, the woman has managed to pack her Jeep full. She has purchased more on this one trip than I've purchased over an entire year. Or two. Okay, fine, let's be realistic - it's more like five.

Large, plump shopping bags with new bathroom towels that will compliment the colors of each bathroom are shoved into the back of the Jeep. New bedding and decorative pillows, that I don't understand the point of since they will just be thrown off the bed before anyone can go to sleep, are safely covered in plastic until they can be spread out carefully over beds. Decorative items are carefully wrapped in white paper to keep them from breaking. A few wall art pieces have been purchased, though Lorelai wants us to add some unique one-of-a-kind art, so she's going to be talking to some Natalie designer later. A couch for the living room has been purchased and a couple accent chairs for the main bedroom will be delivered next week. Plans of visiting Mrs. Kim's Antiques for nightstands, a porch swing, and other furniture has been decided for our next shopping trip. The whole entire thing is too much for me, but it only seems to be energizing Lorelai, so I just go along with it.

"I think I need to cut you off," I call out when I find Lorelai exactly where she said she'd be when I made my trek to the car. Her eyebrows raise in question. "There's no more room in the Jeep."

"What do you mean there's no more room?" She rolls her eyes. "We bought really soft things, we can just squish them down or squeeze them between other items."

"I don't think so-"

"Oh, Luke." Her hand goes to my shoulder and she begins to push against me to get me to walk. I reluctantly give in. "Trust me, I can pack a whole lot more in my car than you think. You just don't know the system."

"Fine. Whatever you say, but I'm going to be annoyed if I have to make a second trip to the Hartford mall to pick up whatever else you decide we need and it doesn't fit in your car."

She chuckles to herself while patting me on the back a couple times before dropping her hand from my shoulder. We begin to make our way through the crowds of people and down the hall.

"But, seriously, Lorelai, what else do we need?" I side-step a couple and find my way back to her side. "We have more than we need."

"We've only scratched the surface. The things we bought today will be swallowed up by the house when we place them in their spot. A house needs a lot of things to make it feel homey. I've never decorated a house this large, but I did have a hand with the Dragonfly. Just trust me, we need a lot more."

When I groan in frustration, she laughs, but then comes to an abrupt stop. Her hand reaches out and grabs onto my arm before pulling me back a few steps so I'm standing next to her.

"Look how itty bitty," she whispers seriously before erupting in laughter. "Oh my god, look how cute!"

I inhale sharply, taking in the baby store window. This is definitely a first for us. Four baby outfits sit in the display window displayed at varying heights with paper clouds hanging above and behind them. Each outfit has a knitted hat with a farm animal face on it and a little outfit that matches the color of the hat.

"Look at that little pink pig hat and outfit that makes them look like a little piggy. Look at the goat with the horns! How cute!"

"Why would you do that?" I ask, frowning, leaning forward to see it more closely.

"What do you mean? It's cute!"

"Why would you try to make a baby look like a pig or a goat when a baby is already cute?"

"Not all babies are cute."

"That's mean. And let me point out that not all pigs or goats or sheep or horses are cute either."

"But combine a little baby with a farm animal and you're guaranteed something adorable!" When I finally look away from the display, I find Lorelai smirking and looking up at me. She's basically vibrating with energy. "Luke! We're having a baby!"

A laugh bubbles up and out of my mouth. "Why are you all surprised now?"

"I don't know," she laughs lightly. "I guess I was just in such a state of shock that I was unable to see past the panic to the reality."

"Yeah, well, let me remind you that we're having two babies," I lift my hand to show two fingers. "We're having two babies."

"Two babies!" she repeats, a bright smile lighting up her face. You know the one. The one that shows just how excited she is. It reaches past her picture perfect smile up into her eyes and glints so brightly, it could be seen from Pluto or Everest or from the Mariana Trench.

This display is filling her with uncontained excitement while at the same time, scaring the crap out of me. I mentally know babies are small, I do, but these outfits on display are giving me a visual of just how small they're going to be.

Our babies are going to be tiny, little humans that I will need to protect and take care of. So many things could go wrong. How am I going to protect them from everything? How am I supposed to be there every moment of every day to make sure they're okay? How the hell am I supposed to worry about them and try to win their mother back at the same time?

"Let's go in," With her hand still on my arm, she pulls me in after her. "We'll just look."

Not wanting to rain on her parade, but liking her hands on me and how unguarded she suddenly is, I allow her to lead me inside. It's a cute store. With . . . cute little baby things that I know absolutely nothing about.

How many times can I use the word 'cute' to describe babies or this store? I dunno. It's the only word that comes to mind. I'm in a bit of a shock.

I feel like the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. I'm an oversized backwards hat, flannel, boot wearing man in a land of tiny, brightly colored toys and clothes and objects. I half expect Munchkins to come out of hiding to sing us a song. And Lorelai? Well, she strolls through the store in a flowy black shirt, her long hair cascading down her back in waves - totally at ease, her mouth running a mile a minute. For the first time, she seems excited about our babies.

Eventually, I calm down enough to not just follow after her, but also listen in on what she's saying.

Seeing an odd looking thing, I lift it and turn it around in my hands, looking for a label that will explain what it is. I don't look up until I hear Lorelai giggling next to me.

"What the hell is this?"

"A nasal aspirator."

I narrow my eyes and look at the contraption more closely before getting it. I cringe, setting it back down on the rack while Lorelai smirks at me.

"And this suction cup thingy?" I ask, picking up a backwards-facing box and staring down at it in confusion.

"That suction cup thingy," she tries to answer in a matter-of-fact tone, but fails and starts to laugh, "Would be a breast pump."

My head pops up to find her eyes watching the red-hot heat of embarrassment racing up my neck and into my face.

She smirks teasingly before leaning close to me so the other customers can't hear, "Want me to show you how it works?"

"Lorelai!"

My face heats hotter, and there's no doubt that my face has turned redder than a perfectly ripe tomato hanging from a vine.

"Ha!" She laughs playfully and points at me with her index finger. "Thirteen shades of red, my friend! Call the Guinness World Records people - that has to be some sort of record!"

I swat her finger away, annoyed, and clumsily drop the box back onto the display in the same exact manner I found it. I suspect some other poor guy innocently picked up the same box in complete ignorance, only to drop it back down quickly to hide his embarrassment. I hope he was more successful than me. "Isn't it twelve shades?"

"Typically, yeah," She turns and straightens the box so it faces correctly, still smirking to herself. "But you went well past level twelve."

"Alright, that's it," I grab onto her shoulders and turn her toward the entrance. "We're done shopping. We're going home."

"No, no, no! I'll stop!" she laughs, turning in my arms to face me and giving me her best Boy Scout salute. "Scout's honor!"

I narrow my eyes down at her and exhale loudly to keep myself from smiling back at her. But when her happy face comes into view, I fail. Instead, I drop my hands from her shoulders, a small smile snaking across my own face in a silent surrender.

Knowing she's won, she turns and makes her way back down the aisle.

I pick up a few more mysterious items, mostly out of curiosity, but also because I love the sound of Lorelai laughing at my ignorance. I especially like when she steps close to me to explain what it is before picking up cute little things to show me. We're completely at ease with each other and at ease with the idea of us having two little ones for the very first time.

And just like that, the moment is over when one of the babies presses against her bladder. She quickly excuses herself from the store to the bathroom. And it's then that I ask a worker for help, hoping I can successfully hide my purchases under my flannel without them being seen by Lorelai.

Nancy - I've been wanting to confirm for chapters that you're 100% right in that Lorelai needs to decorate the house. Great prediction - glad the time finally came :)