Hey! Hi! Going from writing every day to not writing at all felt very odd, so here's a lighthearted one-shot. Also, I posted this a few weeks ago, but it wasn't showing up anywhere so I deleted it and am now trying again. Fingers crossed it works today.
Happy weekend reading, friends!
A child, blonde with playful prankster ways, crystal blue eyes and a pinch of a dimple on each cheek, was crouched down on her knees in front of a large coffee table, carefully loading it with treats and snacks for her favorite once a month activity.
Movie night at Lala and Papa's house.
With it being her first time completely in charge of snacks, she'd spent the last month in New York City meticulously preparing for the event as if she were hosting Simone Biles at her house. Or British royalty if she was feeling extra fancy. Or better yet, one of her favorite authors - and judging by the bag jammed full of books, abandoned on the floor beside her mother's childhood bed, she had a lot of those.
Lists were made.
Aisles of the bustling city's bodegas were meticulously perused and picked over.
Conversations were had.
Fruitlessly, her mother had advised against a few of her snack selections, but the child wouldn't hear of it, insisting that she knew enough to do it all on her own and that she could add different snack options to the mix, because, after all, life is more interesting when you mix things up. At this, Rory, her mother, had raised her perfectly trimmed eyebrows and shook her head, defeated, accepting that her daughter would have to learn her lesson the hard way.
If nothing else, it would make for a great Christmas story to share in a couple of months. She just wished that she didn't have to jet off to London and could be there to witness her own mother's reaction to her granddaughter's 'out of the box' thinking.
Thankfully, the child was impossibly close to her Lala and Papa due to living in close proximity to them her first few years of life. Her mother hadn't planned on staying in Stars Hollow, but her surprise pop-up pregnancy kept her rooted like a towering White Oak in her hometown a few years longer than her anticipated "I'm not back" period.
In the nine months that she carried her child, she wrote and completed her first book Gilmore Girls. It was a far cry from a New York Times bestseller, it never won any awards, but it was a launching point for her novel writing career and it seemed to be gaining traction and popularity with each passing year. How peculiarly odd.
By the time Rory saved up enough money to jettison back into society with her child, the pandemic shut down the world, and her plans were severely thwarted once again. It was as if the entire planet had been intentionally guffawing in Rory's face, mocking her and giving life to the nightmares that haunted her night after night when she laid her head down to rest. Despite this, she wasn't so pessimistic that she couldn't see how gifted she was to have a whole village of townies to help those first four years of her daughter's life. She was at least thankful for that.
Finally, when it became safe once again, she and her daughter moved into a teeny tiny outrageously expensive apartment in Brooklyn. And that, to this very day, still confused her young daughter. According to the child and her short life experience, life was most colorful and jolly when she and her mother lived together, sleepover style, in Papa's apartment over the diner. Why anyone would willingly live anywhere else when you could live above a diner where there's always pie downstairs was a nut that the youngin couldn't begin to crack.
So what if her mother was writing fictional books, moving up in the publishing world and writing a few articles here and there that were now steadily getting published online? Wasn't she sending them in via email or online anyway? Couldn't she technically do all that from Stars Hollow? A year or so ago, the town had ganged up as one against Taylor and had one of those small, albeit, large for Stars Hollow, atrocious black 5G towers installed on the outskirts of town, insisting it was paramount for Stars Hollow tourism. Of course, that didn't stop the town from holding four contests a year, one for each season, and having the winners paint it every four months to keep the town "charming". Would layer after layer of acrylic paint affect the 5G connectivity? Only time would tell.
More importantly, where else could one find fantastic town festivals? Okay, fine, New York City may be full of events twenty-four seven, but Kirk and his pig, Petal, aren't there debuting their latest short films.
Where else could they find a shaggy dog like Paul Anka Jr.? There may be dog parks in New York City, but those dogs aren't eccentric and asinine. You don't call them the real fill in the blank or the dog fill in the blank. You simply call them Buddy. Or Max. Or Daisy.
The biggest problem with New York City? It's missing one, or rather two, very important things: Lala and Papa.
And thus, according to the child, living anywhere else was absolute lunacy, and she'd boldly tell you that to your face - even at seven years old.
"Lola!"
Startled out of her concentrated state, Lola's almond-shaped blue eyes zoomed and focused through the two arches leading from the living room into the kitchen. Impatiently, she rocked on her denim overall covered knees while calling out, "Just a minute! I'm almost done!"
"You're taking longer to set up than it took Knox Johnston to sail around the world or the building of the pyramids or even longer still, your mother in a bookstore! Haven't you heard of the classic tried-and-true tear and dump?"
Quickly, Lola plopped down a stack of mallomars on each end of the table next to the piles of long, waxy Red Vines. Her Lala may prefer imperfect perfection when it comes to setting up the coffee table with movie night snacks, but to Lola, setting the table was an art project and she liked her art not only perfect, but also intentional. "Make more coffee, Lala!"
A delighted chuckle floated through the air with a playful, yet proud, exasperation of, "Your Papa would be very disappointed in your suggestion."
Lola smiled to herself knowing exactly what her grandmother meant before she clumsily pushed the sleeves of her orange and black striped shirt up her forearms, tucked her shoulder length blonde straight hair behind her ears, and took five more minutes to finish her task.
Once completed, she collected all the wrappers and skipped her way into the kitchen where her grandmother was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee and the latest People magazine. At the sight of the child, a smile lit up Lorelai's face. "You done, Angel Face?"
Making her way to the trash, Lola dumped her armful of snack wrappers into the trash. "Yep!"
"Finally!" Lorelai groaned. "I was starting to feel like the Tin Man waiting around for you. I may need you to oil my joints. Have you seen the oil can?"
"You're being dramatic," Lola sang, stepping nearer to her grandmother just as Lorelai leaned forward in her chair, reached for the giggling little girl, and pulled her into her arms.
"It's what I do." Lorelai hugged her affectionately just as the backdoor swung open. "Oh, look who finally figured out how to unlock the chains to the stove!" A chilly gust of fall air and a few trampled orange leaves snuck in uninvited with the intruder.
"Papa!"
Grinning at the sight of his two girls, Luke hastily dropped the take-out bags onto the counter just as Lola barreled in his direction. Swinging her up into his arms with practiced ease, he pecked the side of her head with a stubbly kiss. "Hey, Pumpkin, are you all set for movie night?"
"Yep!"
With the child, all long limbs, securely tucked on his hip, he stole a furtive glance in Lorelai's direction to find her watching the two of them over the rim of her raised coffee mug. "Did Lala give you a hard time about setting up snacks correctly?"
A thumb and pointer finger, both tipped with chipped pink nail polish, with only a millimeter of space left between her digits was held up between Luke and Lola's face. "She was a little tinsy bit impatient."
"When is she ever patient?"
"Never!"
"Guys, I'm sitting right here!" Lorelai jumped to her feet and made the last few steps toward them. "And just for the record, this isn't Masterchef Jr. and I'm no Gordan Ramsay - there's no right or wrong way to set up the snacks."
Luke and Lola popped out of their special world.
"But you're gonna give me a handshake like on that British baking show, right?"
"Of course, Baby," Lorelai cooed before glancing over at Luke. "And just so you know, Mr. Curmudgeon, I let her do it all by herself. I have yet to see her work, but I'm sure she has it set up perfectly. She is a Gilmore afterall." She turned to Lola. "Now why don't you show us what you set up."
Thrilled that the time had finally arrived, Lola wiggled out of Luke's soft red and white flannel covered arms, ran full speed toward the living room, abruptly stopped, and slid the rest of the way on the hardwoods in her polka-dot socks. Her arms opened wide and she let out a happy, "Ta-da!"
Instantly, without missing a beat, Luke snorted before he turned and focused all of his attention on his wife to watch her reaction. It didn't disappoint. Lorelai stared stock-still at the sight of their coffee table, half amused beyond belief and half horrified that her angel-faced doll missed the mark by a mile.
"Lo-"
"Have an open mind," Lola coached from her spot next to the table, her small hands stretched out toward Lorelai as if she were Steve Irwin, calming a wild animal. "And remember," she paused for effect, lifting one finger in the air. "You like cheese!"
"You're right. I do like cheese. I like it melted. I like it fried. I like it on my chili fries, but this-"
"Is delicious!" Lola finished, undeterred, lifting an unwrapped Babybel and shoving it in her mouth.
With a frown, Lorelai bent over at the waist to see what other alien snacks made their way onto her sacred table. Pulling down on her seasonal black t-shirt with a dancing skeleton, Lorelai's eyes lifted to the child. "Is this your prank for the night?"
"What are you talking about?" Lola asked demurely, hands clasping and resting properly in front of her legs all while putting on her best innocent face before she giggled, "This is no prank!"
Still uncertain, Lorelai's eyes fell back to the table and she blinked multiple times. "Do I see grapes?"
"You love grapes!"
"Lola!" Lorelai groaned and dropped her head dramatically to her chest while her dark hair cascaded wildly over her shoulders. "What is this? You did not put together the classic Gilmore smorgasbord! It's all about rotting your insides and sending you to the hospital too young. This is health on a plate." Lorelai raised her head, glanced at Luke who was sitting on the armrest of the couch smirking, and ran a hand through her hair in a failed attempt to tame it. "Look how pleased your Papa is. He shouldn't be proud, he should be horrified!"
Mouth dropping open, Lola turned her attention to Luke who gave her two enthusiastic thumbs up just as the dog Paul Anka Jr. hopped up on the couch, took a seat next to him, and watched the scene with avid interest. She turned back to the table, unbothered by her grandmother's dismay. To her, she knew the pleasure that came from bantering like this. It was in her DNA and the hot flame of adrenaline that shot through her only excited and energized her all the more. "This is a smorgasbord! I just added to it."
"This is not a Gilmore smorgasbord!"
"Yeah-huh!"
"Not-uh!"
Lola threw out her arms. "Then what would you call it?"
Lorelai stood upright, her left hand came to rest against the top of her forehead as she took in the crime scene below her, her ring-clad fingers curled into her hair as she thought carefully over her answer to the question. Her blue eyes met the young girl's and a minute curve lifted on each corner of her lips before she declared, "A charcuterie board!"
Knowing how much her grandmother despised the charcuterie board fad, despite the entire rest of the world falling in love with it hook line and sinker, an indignant gasp filled the room. "Not-uh!"
"If there are cheeses, fruits, vegetables and nuts that you had to prepare before placing it on the table - it's a charcuterie board! A smorgasbord is simply tear and dump!"
"I did tear and dump!" Lola whipped back quickly and went on to explain, "Mommy and I prepared it at home and all I had to do was open the little baggies and dump them on the table."
"And what did she have to say about your choices?"
Lola's nose crinkled adorably. Lorelai could just imagine what Rory had said, and yet, she knew her granddaughter. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, Lola inherited the Gilmore stubborn gene. This "prank" screamed of the youngest Gilmore girl.
"All these foods are delicious, Lala. And char-charc-" She struggled to say the word. "Char-whatever you call them boards don't have Red Vines on them! Plus," Lola lifted a Swedish book she hid when she arrived and flipped it open. "A smorgasbord is really-"
"There's a reason I call it a Gilmore Smorgasbord!" Lorelai cut in dryly, not wanting to hear just how wrong she has been to refer to her sugar induced table as a smorgasbord. Rory had already tried multiple times throughout her childhood to point this out to Lorelai.
"Ya know," Luke jumped in casually, wanting to help the girl. "Charcuterie boards are in right now."
Lorelai glared over her shoulder at Luke, her face falling flat. "You're taking her side, Pablo?"
"If it stops Lola from the generational curse of rotting her insides with artificial food and harmful chemicals? Yeah. Plus, it's not like anyone is asking you to eat the fruit and vegetables and cheese, Lorelai. She still added the Red Vines, Marshmallows, Pop Tarts, and Mallomars. And according to you, there's no right or wrong way to set up the snacks."
Outnumbered and defeated, Lorelai threw up a crisp white flag by popping a red grape into her mouth. "Alright," Lorelai started wearily, chewing and swallowing the fruit, before letting out a breath. "I may not agree with all of your choices, and you definitely don't get the Paul Hollywood handshake, but as long as you don't dry-board me into eating a celery stick like Bugs Bunny, I'll say you did a good job. At least for your first time."
A Cheshire grin broke free across Lola's face.
And thus, the evening began. The take out bags filled with two cheese burgers and one turkey burger were carried into the living room, Inside Out 2 was turned on with Lola sitting in the middle of the striped couch between her grandparents, and the majority of the snacks on the table were consumed by the happy three. Typical of the young child, and expected by her grandparents, a true prank was pulled the moment Luke popped open a can of nuts and a trick snake exploded in his face. Lola had laughed and laughed in response to Luke's startled response as young kids do, even once it's no longer funny, until Luke tickled the child right back into genuine laughter.
Nearly every movie night rule was followed, other than the squirming one when Lola had rushed into her mother's old room to change out of her denim overalls into her PJs. Lorelai had opened her mouth to admonish the child when she reappeared, but the broken rule was overlooked and forgotten the moment Lola crawled onto Lorelai's lap to cuddle for the remainder of the movie.
By the time the movie credits rolled up the screen, Lola was fast asleep in Lorelai's arms. Scooping up the child, Luke carried her to bed where he and Lorelai tucked the child safely in for the night before they made their way back out to the kitchen.
"What's with you?" Luke asked Lorelai, noting her unusual still and quiet demeanor. "You're unusually quiet."
Instead of answering where they could be overheard, Lorelai took his hand in her own and led them back into the quiet living room. The two sat together, Luke plunking down, legs spread out wide in the way men do, as Lorelai curled up sideways next to him with an elbow resting against the back of the couch.
"I don't think Rory's back in London for publishing."
His eyebrows raised. "Sure she is, she had that meeting. Why else would she go…" he trailed off while looking around the room, lit only by the warm glow of the lamps, as understanding clicked into place. "Oh."
"Yeah." Lorelai rolled her eyes and let out a winded exhale. "Luke-"
"People change."
"Not really, no," Lorelai argued, shaking her head. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'you can't teach an old dog new tricks'? He's a privileged rich boy who runs around having affairs, throwing money around like it's no big deal, and hangs with Tweedledum and Tweddledee."
"I can't believe you're calling Logan an old dog," Luke said. "And anyway isn't he married?"
Groaning, Lorelai rubbed the side of her face roughly. "Like that's stopped Rory in the past?"
"Rory's different," Luke pointed out simply. "She's changed. She's matured. She knows what she wants and has a plan to get there. She has a home and isn't out there Jack Kerouac-ing it anymore."
"I know and that's precisely why I'm worried. She's been doing so well rebuilding, or rather, building a life for herself and Lola. I haven't seen her this focused and concentrated since she started at Chilton or caught up at Yale after taking time off. I worry Logan will sidetrack her and that she'll drop her plan and get distracted. I'd rather she pass the peyote than get close to him again."
"What makes you think she's in London to see Logan?"
Lorelai focused all her attention on wrapping a warm yellow blanket around herself in an attempt to ward off all her anxious thoughts. "Logan and the French heiress are getting a divorce, and when I asked Rory what book she was submitting at the publishing house, she was vague."
"Would that be so bad? He's been there for Rory and Lola."
"He's there for Lola just about as much as Christopher was there for Rory."
"You know it's not the same thing," Luke pointed out gently. "Logan would be here more for that little girl if Rory would allow it. He adores her. You kept the door to Rory wide open for Christopher, but Logan has to knock on the door and Rory has to get up, unlock the multiple bolt locks she's put in place, and open the door if he knocks. It's not the same thing."
"This is all your fault, you know," Lorelai argued weakly. "I can't believe you and April convinced Rory to tell Logan about Lola. Rory was so determined to go at it all alone. She should have," Lorelai's eyes popped toward Rory's old room to make sure no innocent ears could overhear her following words, "It would have been much better than having Shira and Mitchum having any involvement in Lola's life. I mean seriously, no Gilmore would bring a charcuterie board to movie night. Obviously that's Huntzburger influenced!"
"Yeah, because your mom wouldn't ever serve cheese and fruit and vegetables," Luke droned monotonously and shrugged a shoulder, his stance, even years later, unmoved. "He had a right to know about her and The Huntzbergers have had very little contact with Lola. Didn't you say that had to do with her being a girl?"
"I hate the patriarchy!"
"Careful, you're starting to sound like that one blonde singer girl." Lorelai lifted an unamused eyebrow as Luke went on, "You saw what it did to me to find out about April years after she was born, it even affected you, and you heard firsthand how it affected April. Plus, no charcuterie board in the world has Pop Tarts, you gotta get over that."
"I know," Lorelai grumbled woefully. Reaching for him, she wrapped her fingers around his, their wedding rings clinking in the process, wanting his confidence and uncharacteristic optimism to seep into her being osmosis style.
"Rory will be fine," Luke reassured her, squeezing her hand with his own. "Lola may have been a surprise, but she gave Rory purpose. And who knows, maybe Rory and Logan can find a way to make it work."
"Since when are you Mr. The-Glass-Is-Half-Full?"
"You know what I love the most about you?" Luke asked, shifting on the couch to face her while changing the topic.
"My dazzling eyes, spunky can-do spirit and never at a loss for words rambling?"
"I do love those things," he admitted and then added with a characteristic grumble, "Even if the never ending words thing annoys me sometimes." He turned serious when she looked back at him. "It's your ability to love everyone you come across. You give everyone a chance. It doesn't matter what size they are or what car they drive or what profession they work at day in and day out. You look at their heart. And you've never cared about how much money anyone makes."
"That doesn't matter to me."
"Exactly. They don't have to be rich to be respected. You proved that by marrying me." Luke nodded solemnly and Lorelai sighed, realizing too late where her husband was going with this. "And…"
"And…" Lorelai exhaled a long groan and finished his thought, "Just because you're rich doesn't make you a bad person."
He nodded once in agreement, pleased that she had willingly finished the thought for herself. He knew it was a hard admission for her and one that she had to come to accept for herself.
"Are you going to quote Confucius or Yoda now, O' Wise One?" Lorelai teased, arching one eyebrow while simultaneously dropping her outer leg to the floor.
"I was thinking more Yogi Berra."
Lorelai chuckled, rubbing Luke's thumb with her own as their hands dropped to her thigh. "Yeah, well, I guess you're right."
"I'm sorry?" A look of confusion painted itself not only across Luke's face, but Lorelai's too. "Can you repeat that last bit? I don't think I heard you correctly."
Lorelai, realizing too late what she said, flashed one of her brilliant smiles at him before pulling her hand free and whacking him playfully with the back of it. Catching and taking her hand back in his own, he lifted it to his lips and gently placed a sweet kiss to the back of it as the moment turned soft and intimate.
"Are you still happy and satisfied, Luke?" Lorelai asked softly.
It was a question they had begun to ask each other regularly. A simple check in.
With her hand still clasped in his, he pulled her to him as he leaned forward, and answered her question by placing a gentle kiss to her lips.
Still, to this day, Luke found that the declaration he made the night of her surprise return from her Wild adventure to be one hundred percent true. She was all he ever needed to truly feel happy and satisfied. He felt like the luckiest man alive.
Though he'd never admit it out loud, he loved that they had Stars Hollow with all the insanely nosey kooky neighbors in their back pocket just as much as Lorelai did.
They had two grown and successful daughters who were out in the world making their own way.
They had each other. And even though their relationship took them down every single joyful and painful path imaginable, they were finally fully committed and happy. Maybe things didn't pan out exactly how either had previously imagined, but isn't that life?
Perhaps the hardest lesson for anyone to learn is that life will catapult you through twists and turns whether you willingly get on the ride of life or not. It all just depends on how you react to those curves. It can be as simple as accepting a Gilmore smorgasbord that too closely resembles a charcuterie board or as challenging as accepting your daughter's desire to potentially rekindle a relationship with your granddaughter's father once more just to be sure that nothing more exists there. Although, honestly, who knows if that may be what Rory is really doing in London.
And they had sweet, beautiful Lola, the greatest twist and turn they could have ever imagined, peacefully asleep in a room not all that far away.
Pulling away, with one last quick peck to his smiling wife's lips, Luke's eyes focused on the sparkling joy radiating through her eyes. "Are you happy and satisfied, Lorelai?"
"More than I could have ever imagined."