October 4

8 Months, 0 Weeks, 4 Days

Size: Celery Bundle

Luke POV

With the custody case completely settled, everything else seems to have fallen back into place. Lorelai, though she is still actively pondering which house she wants to live in despite the clock rapidly ticking away, seems to have fallen headfirst into early nesting mode. And let me tell you, it's a strange sight to behold. Not only is Lorelai far from being an organized person, she now spends her sleepless nights organizing and redecorating the house. When she's not doing that, she's making never-ending lists of baby essentials we still need to buy (who knew you needed so many things for two tiny little babies who only eat, sleep, and poop) and, of course, things for me to do. I don't mind, not really, because I know Lorelai, and I know this is a sign that she's slowly coming around to the idea of staying here in this house.

Don't get the wrong idea, I love her house. I do. That house isn't just full of warm memories for her, it's full of memories for me too. I can still recall how nervous I was the first time I went over to fix an outlet she had been complaining about for a week after I met her - I had just done it to get her to shut up. That's when I learned Lorelai's never-ending fast yakking wasn't just something she was doing in the diner to try to get a rise out of me, it's just her, and that's when a true friendship started. I remember the first birthday I gifted Lorelai five hours of manual labor and found that it meant a lot not only to Lorelai and Rory, but to me too. I liked knowing the girls were safely tucked away from the world in their home at the end of a long day. I can still remember how hard I tried to pretend it wasn't a big deal the first time I watched a movie alone with Lorelai on her couch after Rory moved to Yale. She was breathtaking in a simple laid back black sweater, her hair was perfectly curled and all I wanted to do was to grab her and kiss her. Instead, I acted annoyed and grumbled about her asinine list of 'movie rules' and then ended up falling asleep on her couch during Hardbodies. I can still remember the look in Lorelai's eyes as I hovered over her and she confessed I was about to be the first man to make love to her in her house.

Lots and lots of good memories.

But that sweet little house is not big enough for our growing family.

Even so, if she were to ask me to move us back over there, I'd cram us all back in there the way Lorelai crams Red Vines and other candy contraband in her purse when we go to the movies. But she hasn't. Instead, she asked me to assemble a large bookcase in the guest room for Rory's books when our Yale girl comes home for a visit.

Home.

Yeah, try telling me she's not moving in.

I'm busy looking for my drill when I notice the door to the closet is cracked open. Curious to see if I mindlessly left it in there, I seem to have sympathy pregnancy brain, I swing the door open only to discover an abandoned box safely tucked away in the very back of the empty closet.

I frown, flick on the closet light, and glance down at the cardboard top, surprised to see my name sprawled across a flap in Lorelai's loopy handwriting.

And then I remember exactly what it is: it's the box.

The box Rory somberly dropped off to me shortly after Lorelai and I broke up. The box I couldn't force myself to pry open and the box I couldn't bring myself to throw away. So, instead, I shoved it in the back of my apartment closet, transported it here during my move, and then shoved it in the back of this closet.

Curious by its contents, I haul the box over to the new bed (Rory was just as freaked out by the cherubs as Lorelai and Paul Anka) and pop open the flaps one-by-one.

On the very top, right over my blue and white flannel that Lorelai declared as hers after our very first date, sits a small box.

Despite knowing I'm the only one home, I take one last cursory glance around the room before pulling out my phone.

Lorelai POV

"You're crazy! Certifiable! I'm half tempted to sign you into Bedlam! Why in the world would you ever suggest I go back to Friday night dinner?"

"Beats me," Luke grunts as we stroll our way across the street toward the town square. "Maybe because it's the only place you see your family," he pauses, clearly trying to come up with a better excuse, "And Rory's there," He snaps his fingers and points at me finger gun style. "You like her!"

"I see Rory all the time."

"That was not the annoying song you were singing to her last night on the phone."

"I wasn't singing to Rory, that was my American Idol audition. Simon Cowell adores me," I sarcastically explain before moving on, "Listen, Luke, I know that we haven't really talked about it, but I take what my Mom did very seriously."

"I know-"

"I went to Christopher that night-"

"Ah, jeez, please," he groans, attempting to walk in a completely different direction, leaves crackling and crinkling beneath his big black boots. I take a hold of his bicep to keep him next to me. "For the love of all things good, can we stop talking about that guy already?"

I slip my arm around his elbow, pinning us together. Ignoring his words, I go on, "I went to Christopher, I take full responsibility for that, but honestly? I don't know that I would have gone to him had I not just seen him that night."

Luke still doesn't look at me, instead, his jaw is locked into place so tightly, it rivals the security force of Fort Knox. Despite his steely stance, his gaze remains steadfast on the enchanting glow radiating warmly from the twinkle lights hanging over and through the town gazebo.

"She did it on purpose, Luke. She didn't want me with you," I continue to explain as we walk arm-in-arm in the dark toward the lights. "Why would you, of all people, try to convince me to reconnect with her? It's like asking Caesar to reconnect with Brutus."

"That's a bit impossible considering the outcome," he says dryly out of the corner of his mouth.

"Exactly! That's my point!"

He turns our conversation in a completely different direction, "Did you spend a lot of time with your grandparents growing up?"

"Uh, no."

This is when he finally turns his head to look at me. His eyebrows shoot up toward the band of his blue hat and it's easy to see that my answer is not exactly what he was expecting.

"My dad's parents lived in London and my mom's parents lived in Maine. I saw them during the holidays, but that's about it," I explain while pulling my jacket tighter around me to stave off the dipping temperature. "Our family has never been very big on being a Brady Bunch sort of family. We were more like the Von Trapp family, pre-Maria."

"They never picked you up from school or kept you overnight or showed up to any of your games?"

"Games?" I arch a skeptical brow. "Luke, have you ever seen me play a sport?"

"You know what I mean," He growls impatiently. "Fine, did they ever attend a show you were in or come see you in something you were interested in?"

"That would have meant that my parents let me do something I was interested in."

He rolls his eyes, clearly not bewitched by my fast quip.

"But to answer your question, no," I give in while following him up the gazebo steps past the charming pumpkins carefully placed on the steps between baskets of deep hued orange, red and white mums. Unceremoniously, I plop down onto the wooden bench, and groan in relief as the weight is released off my feet. I plop my purse down next to me, and end the whole sitting ordeal by resting my hands on top of my entirely too large bump. "My grandparents never came to anything. The Gilmores lived on the other side of the pond and Mom's parents weren't big on support unless it had to do with the DAR, and even then, it was a far cry from a good experience. Mom became a crazy stage mom, and in response to her crazy I became wild and uncontrollable as she tried to shove me in a glass box like David Blaine for all to come see and mock. Instead of coming to see me, my grandparents usually only came to see their friends in the DAR. The closest thing to a loving family I have is Rory and even that is unconventional considering the whole getting pregnant at sixteen thing," When a look of sadness crosses Luke's face, I rush to move the conversation off my less than loving childhood, "Did you have that kind of relationship with your grandparents?"

"Yeah, both sets," A small fond smile peeks its way out of his mouth. "They'd come to every baseball game or track meet and cheer from the sidelines."

"Ha!" I grin at the visual. "I can't imagine hunky Butch Danes in his tiny little running shorts liking that very much."

"I hated it," he admits monotonously, and then leans toward me, eyes intense, saying, "And the shorts weren't that short." I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows back at him. "But I loved it at the same time, you know? Both sets would sit with Mom and Dad and Liz on the bleachers. Rain or shine - it didn't matter." I listen attentively, already engrossed in the story. "We were the family that would have a game and then a cookout afterwards." Even in the dark, lit only by the moon and the lights above, I can see his eyes fill with a Mariana Trench depth of sadness. "Really, Mom was the one who united everyone in our family. She was warm and kind. Dad was quiet, but he was kind underneath it all. Mom had a special way with him."

"It must have been hard for him when she passed," I say quietly. "On all of you."

At this, Luke's attention drifts down to his hands. I study his lowered profile, his sharp jawline, the prickly whiskers of his five o' clock shadow that I adore, and the soft brown tuft of hair that curls stubbornly up against the bill of his hat. Not for the first time, I marvel at what a big, solid and manly man he is and the desire to to curl up into his black leather jacket covered arms becomes almost too much to resist, but there are people meandering around town, and we haven't yet told the town about us. With the April custody case, all our attention got sucked up there.

"When Mom died, Dad always said it was like the sunshine went away with her. Life turned black and white. Color vanished."

"He was a real life Bill Withers, huh?"

"Something like that, yeah," he drawls, his eyes still downcast. "I guess in a lot of ways that was true for all of us. By the time Mom passed, both sets of my grandparents were gone. All that was left was me, my dad, Liz, and a couple family members who lived out of the state and never came to visit, like Uncle Louie. Dad turned stoic and then he got sick. I spent most of high school worried about him. I started working at the hardware shop after school just so I could keep an eye on him. Liz went off the deep end and ran off as soon as she met Jess' dad. I went from having a full, loving family one day to having no family the next."

"Oh, Luke."

"I remember thinking I never wanted to love someone that deeply for fear of losing them," There's a beat of silence before his earnest blue eyes find mine once again. "And then I met you."

Stuck in one of those rare moments where incredibly sweet Luke leaves me stunned, all I can manage to get out is a soft, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," His shoulder bumps against mine as he leans deliciously into my space to whisper in a low grumble, "And don't get used to all this mushy talk from me."

I smirk affectionately back at him.

"I loved my grandparents and getting together with them during holidays. I want that for Lilly and William. My parents are gone, so they can't step in for the twins," He turns to glance at me. "Are you sure you want to cut them off from their only set of living grandparents?"

"Are you and Rory in cahoots or something?"

His brows furrow. "What?"

"She said the same exact thing."

He shakes his head, and winces, clearly fighting within himself on what to say next. "The other day, at the restaurant, when you went to the bathroom, Emily asked for my help," he says, watching for my reaction. When I gawk at him, he goes on, "She wants you to come back to Friday night dinner, she misses you and she regrets pushing you away."

I fall back on the bench, a quiet disbelieving exhale puffing up and out of my lungs. "So I leave for two minutes and she corners you all Tarantino style?"

He gives me a guilty look. "We may have gotten into it."

My mouth falls open at the visual of a fiery Luke going head-to-head against my mother. "What?!"

"I warned her to back off and that she and Mr. Gilmore can say and do whatever they want, but nothing they do is going to keep me away from you and the kids."

"You said that? To my mother?"

"Yeah, I'm tired of them meddling with us," he says nonchalantly.

"Oh man!" I laugh incredulously and when Luke winces, I gather that he's misunderstanding my reaction. "I so wish I could have been there to see my mother's face!"

"It was all very fast and intense. One minute I had all the power and then she went all Bridget on my Aldo. And now I'm seeing things her way. How the hell does she do that?"

"I'm still trying to figure that one out," I admit as the rest of his sentence comes in clear. "So that's why you're pushing Friday night dinner? Because of my mother?"

Next to me, he shakes his head back and forth slowly, pondering my question. "Yes and no. I actually believe her when she says she misses you. Plus she had some pretty valid points when it comes to love and family," He scratches behind his ear, a bit uncomfortable, and then shrugs a shoulder. "She almost started crying."

"No she didn't!" I exclaim, my shoulders popping up in a burst of disbelieving energy. I begin to babble faster and faster, "She's not human, she doesn't cry. She's a tear-ductless-bot incapable of feeling any emotion other than indignation and extreme disappointment."

"Well that tear-ductless-bot's eyes filled up with tears. Listen, you know I'm not a fan of your mother. I'm not. Or your father, though I don't mind him as much. As far as I was concerned, I had no plans to help her or see things her way, but she brought up the fact that she and Richard are our kids' only grandparents. And besides that, she's your blood family and we both know family is important."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I can tolerate her for you and Rory and the kids, if you want to make up with her. Our relationship is strong enough to make it through another round of Richard and Emily. No one is ever going to come between us again. I won't let them."

Allowing his words to permeate down into my being, my gaze drifts out the gazebo toward Miss Patty's where a town meeting is to be gathered in just a few minutes. The windows, though they are mysteriously covered from the inside tonight, are outlined with a soft glow. Across the town square, people come and go and the soft rumblings of a room full of people vibrate out the doors into the wide open when they open and close. Andrew is busy helping Miss Canihan up the stairs and the town bustles together to set up for the meeting. There seems to be a record amount of people gathering and the idea of all those people going up against Taylor thrills me.

All is right in our tiny little corner of the world.

"Lorelai?"

"The only real family I've felt like I've had was here in Stars Hollow," I begin honestly, snapping back to our conversation. "First with Mia and then later with the town when I ventured out past the Inn. Then with you." I turn and smile at him shyly. "My whole life I felt so alone until I came here. This is the only place I have ever felt truly loved and accepted. Most of my childhood I was convinced my mom would have been happier had I not actually been born. Things were so tumultuous between us, there was a rumor going around school that I was adopted because my Mom couldn't get pregnant."

"You know that's not tru-"

"No, yeah, I know I'm not adopted," A hand raises to rest against my face as memory after memory of disappointing my mother comes to mind. "But that doesn't change the fact that I wasn't the daughter they wanted. I wasn't docile and dainty and demure. I was loud and wild and tall. I didn't understand their world and they never thought to ask what I was confused about or ask how I was feeling. They must have been so disappointed to get me."

"Lorelai, you are not a disappointment," he states firmly, turning to face me. "We both know, in their weird, dictatorish controlling way, they love you."

"Yeah, I know," I admit on a choked up sigh. "It's just, how many opportunities am I going to give them?"

"Just one more, just like you're giving me."

I frown petulantly.

"Not just for the twins, but for you too," he continues. "You can say whatever you want, but we both know you love them. They're getting older, Lorelai. Hell, we're all getting older and you don't know how much more time you'll have with them."

"That's true, Mom did look smaller than I remembered."

"I'd do anything to see my Mom or Dad again."

"I really hope our children get your heart," I laugh through a lump in my throat, embarrassed by the sudden uprising of emotions rushing to the surface. "I hope our daughter is nothing like me, Luke. She'd be a nightmare."

"No. Don't say that."

I bite my bottom lip into my mouth and look around while shaking my head. Out of everyone, right next to my parents and Rory, he should know all about my self-sabotaging ways. He's been on the receiving end of it after all. The last thing he should want is a daughter who resembles any part of me.

"I hope our daughter is just like you," he says simply.

Whipping my head around, I look back to Luke, taken off guard by his words. His eyes narrow and I can tell he's surprised by my own self deprecation, it's rare for me to dip so heavily into it.

"I hope she's confident enough in herself to be loud and let her opinions be known," he says, reaching out and placing his hand over my bump. "I hope she loves life enough to be wild and know what she wants and isn't afraid to go get it," Our eyes lock. "I love everything about you. Even your insane eating habits and never ending kibitzing," His eyes warm and his thumb affectionately swipes back and forth in reaction to the active kicking happening beneath his palm. "It'd be my honor to have our daughter or son be anything like you."

"Luke…" I whisper so quietly it might as well have been the wind calling after him.

But he heard me.

His hand slides up my bump to where my hand is resting, securely wrapping around mine, his blue eyes serious as he takes me in. "My world turned black and white when we broke up, Lorelai. I wasn't lying when I said my life isn't real to me unless you're here in it with me. I'm sorry for letting you down before."

"You've already apologized."

"Yeah," he exhales. "But I never thought I'd get a chance with you, much less have you wanting to be my wife. I can't believe I messed that up."

My lips part at his admission as I stare at him, beneath a curtain of twinkling lights in the center of our tiny town, thoroughly overwhelmed by this unusual bit of vulnerability from him.

"I'd still marry you," I confess quietly, scared of his reaction, but unable to keep the confession in.

But I had no reason to be fearful. His blue eyes, full of love and warmth and kindness, spark to life. He leans forward, pulling something out of his pocket with his free hand.

"Luke-"

"I love you," he cuts me off before I can say anything else. "It's impossible for me to not love you, and trust me, I tried to not love you for eight years and two weeks."

"Two weeks?" I scrunch up my nose. "That's awfully specific."

"The two weeks were when we were officially apart," he explains. "I, uh, I know I royally screwed up before, I do, but, I still want you, Lorelai. I want to make you happy and give you that golden retriever, grow old together, wear matching jogging suits middle you were yammering on and on about all those years ago."

"Comfort, love, safety," I add on quietly, my attention drifting down to his lap where his hand is securely wrapped over whatever mysterious object he pulled from his pocket.

"Exactly. I want to be the man to give you that," he says, his voice heavy with love and sincerity. The moment between us begins to stretch and feel impossibly large, as if we're the only two people left in the entire world.

And suddenly, every action this evening points like a compass arrow to exact this moment. A homemade meal that was ready the moment I got home. The foot massage that was sprinkled with fun and comfortable bantering. A stroll that led us right here to this bench beneath the lights in the gazebo. His conversations of choice; children, grandparents, family, middles. And that look in his eyes… he's planned this.

Oh. My. God.

And just like that, time slows down and all that exists is the incredibly warm smile Luke nervously flashes me when he realizes I've caught on. My chest begins to heave with each breath, mirroring his, as awareness between the two of us rises like a hot air balloon and threatens to carry us away into the unknown. With one final nod of determination, he lifts his hand in the space between the two of us and pops open a familiar small, velvety box to reveal the beautiful engagement ring I thought I'd never see again. Never in a million years did I see this coming, much less believe Luke would plan something quite this romantic for the two of us.

"Lorelai," he pauses to swallow the lump of emotion in his throat. "Will you-"

I don't even wait for him to get the question out. Everything in me begins to expand and the only way to let out all that new pressure is to let out an enthusiastic, "Yes!"

He chuckles, dropping his head to his chest in playful exasperation before looking up at me with a happy, affectionate smile that spreads all the way across his handsome face. "Lorelai, for once, will you please just let me be the man and propose? I know you're little Miss Independent, and I promise after this moment you can go on acting like you wear the pants in our relationship, but please, just let me have this moment."

I laugh at his mini rant, loving every Luke-filled moment of it. I nod, rendered speechless, and begin to wipe away the tears that start their journey down my face. Listen, you try being pregnant and have the guy you've been wanting to marry finally make his way back to you and see just how well you keep your hormones in check.

"Lorelai," he inhales deeply, starting again, one hand in mine and the other clutching the ring box, eyes soft and yet serious. "Will you-"

"Luke!" An urgent voice calls out from the steps of Miss Patty's. "Lorelai!"

"What the actual?!" And for the second time tonight, Luke's head drops down to his chest as he grumbles low and deep, "You have got to be kidding me!"

I chuckle and squeeze his hand in my own before looking across the town square, to find Andrew standing on Miss Patty's steps, waving his arms frantically in an attempt to gain our attention. "Do you mind giving us a hand? We need some extra help!"

"Give us a minute and we'll be right over!" Luke grumble yells back.

Frowning and clearly unhappy with the response, Andrew awkwardly tucks back into the studio and carefully closes the door behind himself.

We look at each other again and for the third time tonight, everything stills as a soft understanding binds the two of us together.

"Will you marry me?" he asks simply, relief flooding his face as he finally gets the entire question out, before smiling self-deprecatingly and tagging on, "For real this time?"

"Yes," I laugh softly while nodding. "I'll marry you."

At this, he grins broadly, leans forward and pecks me once, twice, three times before pulling away. The crinkles in the corner of his eyes deepen into unrestrained happiness when he looks into my eyes and then exhales a deep shaky breath as he lifts the engagement ring from the box. Lifting my left hand with his shaky one, he slips the ring back onto my finger before leaning forward and laying a real one on me, arm around me and all - not caring one bit who may see us.

Because it doesn't matter now.

Finally, much to my chagrin, we manage to pull away and find ourselves back on our feet. I grab my purse, full of stupid healthy, crunchy snacks to annoy Taylor with during the town meeting, and take time to make sure my mascara didn't run before looking up at Luke. "This turned out to be a really great night."

"Yeah, it did."

"And, you best know," I raise a coy brow in his direction as we walk across the gazebo toward the steps. "You're now going to every Friday night dinner with me."

"Oh, now hold up one minute!" He calls after me as I begin to make my way down the steps toward Miss Patty's. "I did not agree to that!"

"As my husband-to-be, it's your job to be right by my side," I call out, smirking and trudging my way over the grass. "Plus, Rory will be there and you like her!" I throw his words back at him mockingly. "I mean seriously, if you're going to take the time to convince me how important blood family is in addition to this town who we know will love our kids like no other, you best believe you're going with me. Do you know what could happen in a thirty minute drive on the highway?" I climb up the studio steps and slide open the door while looking over my shoulder at a befuddled Luke who's following after me, horrified by the thought. "There's no predicting when your babies will decide to join us in this crazy world-"

But I don't get to finish my teasing, because a thunderous roar of, "Surprise!" rings out behind me.

I twirl around, my mouth falling open into a smile of total and complete, blissful surprise.

A/N Hi friends! Because it's impossible to see how far along you are in this story, I just want to let you know we're rapidly nearing the end. Those of you still along for the long ride, thanks for sticking it out.