CHAPTER 3 – Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner

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A wave of worry washed over Luke as he snapped his phone shut and shoved it back in his jeans pocket. He snatched a towel from the counter and navigated the nearly empty dining room toward a messy table beside the window. As he began to clear it, his mind raced like a treadmill at full speed.

Was she okay? Was Rory's flight delayed? Was she stuck in traffic? Was she having second thoughts about him? Was she dead along the side of the road?

After straightening the salt and pepper shakers and pushing in the chairs, Luke's eyes drifted out the window. Like a spotlight on a pivotal moment in his life story, the morning sun's golden rays cast an almost ethereal glow on the center of the road. The very place where their kiss had transpired only twelve hours ago.

Just then, the sound of chiming bells echoed through the diner. Luke whipped his head towards the entrance only to see Gypsy and Andrew, looking worse for the wear, dragging themselves inside.

After giving the pair a perfunctory nod of his head, Luke let out a sigh and massaged his nearly whiplashed neck with the tips of his fingers. All morning he was hyper-aware, instinctively darting his head towards the doorway with every ding, secretly hoping it would be Lorelai traipsing through the entrance. It was absurd. She was supposed to call before leaving the airport.

Glued to his spot near the window, Luke scanned the dining room while Caesar slid two mugs and menus on the counter in front of Andrew and Gypsy. The citizens of Stars Hollow were clearly feeling the dreaded Founders Day Punch hangover that morning. Undoubtedly a result of the sugary spirit being doled out by Patty at the party last night like Tootsie Rolls on Halloween. Besides a handful of tourists and a few regulars nursing their coffee and handfuls of ibuprofen, the diner had been dead all morning. The doldrum of which made time creep at a snail's pace, providing Luke with far too much time to fret.

Suddenly, a sharp ring reverberated through the diner. As half of the patrons winced, pressing their hands against their throbbing heads, Luke sprung into action with the speed and agility of a cheetah. Channeling his old Butch Danes track star persona, he swerved around the counter. Eyes laser-focused on the wall-mounted phone, he lunged to grab it as it rang.

Simultaneously, Caesar emerged from the kitchen, rounding the doorway with his arm outstretched.

Nearly crashing into one another, Luke forcefully shoved Caesar's hand aside and grabbed the phone from the receiver. "I got it!" Luke snapped, cradling it tight to his chest like a possessive toddler would a treasured toy.

Caesar's eyes bolted open as he flung his hands up in surrender. "It's all yours, boss," he told his employer, retreating into the kitchen.

Luke's piercing gaze followed Caesar until he was well out of earshot before lifting the phone. "Luke's," he muttered into the speaker.

"Twenty-two dollars!" a familiar feminine voice boomed through the line.

"Lorelai?"

"Where do they get off charging people twenty-two dollars for one hour of airport parking?! It's not like I'm parking Limp Bizkit's tour bus. Seriously, I'm calling the Channel Five news team. This scam must be exposed to the public. The peasants should launch an uprising. Hasta la victoria siempre!"

"Where the hell are you, Che Guevara?"

"Just now leaving the airport …twenty-two dollars and an offspring lighter."

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm just a beautiful symphony of conflicting feelings, conducted by my own inner chaos."

"Ah, something new to write down in my 'Things That Were Completely Obvious' journal." He shifted the phone to the opposite ear, silently exhaling in relief that she was still very much alive and chattering. "I meant, are you sure that you're okay to drive?"

"If I had known that you were setting up an emotional sobriety checkpoint, I would have packed the Rorschach cards in my handbag," she bristled in irritation. "Yes, Officer Danes, I'm fine to drive. I held it together shockingly well. I said goodbye and watched her get through TSA all without a single tear shed. It was when I got back to the Jeep and Miss Wind Beneath My Wings, Bette Midler was there, in surround sound, belting out the sappiest ballad ever sung, that I had my Beaches melt down."

"Ah geez, I shoulda went with you."

"No, it's fine, Luke. I needed to let the sadness swallow me for a little bit. It's no big deal, it's just …" She let out a sigh. "Part of the process, I guess. I'm better now."

"Okay," he said, unconvinced but choosing to let it go. "So, um, you feel up to stopping by the diner? I'll get a fresh pot started."

"I think …" Lorelai hesitated for a moment, contemplating his question before answering, "As appealing as a cup of your coffee sounds, I think I need a day or two before I start yielding questions about Rory from the town. I don't really feel up to rehashing the exact moment in which I became an empty nester, over and over again, while Kirk pedals discounted purple Livestrong bracelets on the stool beside me."

"I get that," he said, taking a deep breath before deciding to throw all his cards on the table. "So, how about I meet you at your house in …" He glanced at his wristwatch. "Forty-five minutes?"

"Oh Luke, um …I don't -"

"I've got coffee and snacks, but it's your call," he blurted out, waiting with baited breath for her reply.

She carefully considered her options and the potential emotional consequence of each choice, before replying, "Do these snacks of yours consist of anything other than leafy green things?"

"You'll just have to see for yourself."

"Forty-five minutes?"

"See ya then," he told her, tossing the phone back on its cradle, leaving no time for her to change her mind.

After filling a large take-out cup, Luke snapped the lid and grabbed his keys from the drawer under the register. "Hey Caesar, I'll be back in a few hours. I have my cell," he yelled into the kitchen.

Caesar, fast at work behind the grill, raised his spatula in acknowledgement. "Aye-aye, Boss!"

On Lorelai's front porch steps, Luke sat incessantly squinting at his wristwatch, mind racing with uncertainty. Even the melodic songs of the finches filtering through the tree branches couldn't pierce through the mental loop of their phone conversation playing over and over in his mind. Had he pushed her too fast, too soon? Could she have really stood him up in front of her own house? She was over thirty minutes late but isn't being late par for the course with Lorelai Gilmore?

A creaking door hinge jolted Luke back to reality, pulling him away from the spiral of self-doubt consuming his thoughts. His eyes snapped toward the sundrenched porch next door. There, in the doorway of the The Dell residence, Babette stood clad in nothing but a zebra patterned robe and fuzzy pink slippers.

At the sight of the diner owner perched on her neighbor's porch steps, a surprised Babette instinctively ran her fingers through her platinum blonde curls. "Oh, hiya Luke!" Babette's husky voice rasped. "I, ah, just came out to check on the gnomes."

"Hey Babette. I'm just waiting for Lorelai …" He nodded his chin toward the to-go cup and a Doose's bag beside him on the step. "Brought her some coffee."

"Of course you did, Doll. Aw, I always knew this day would come. Rory's so dang smart, we all knew she wouldn't last long in this town after she graduated."

"She's chasing her dream. It's …" He raised his shoulders in a small shrug. "A good thing."

"This is gonna be so dang hard on Lorelai." A calculating gleam glimmered in Babette's eyes before she added, "Good thing you're back here. Just in the nick of time." The sight of his bulging eyes triggered a playful smirk on Babette's bright pink lips. "Oh, come on, Doll, we all saw that smackeroo you put on her last night."

"Oh that? Um, that wasn't …we, um, …" he stammered and shook his head. "Lorelai and I, ah …we aren't …"

"It's ok, y'all will figure it out. But if you get it figured out by June seventeenth, it would be even better."

"June seventeenth?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Sugah," she said, waving off his worries with a flick of her wrist as she began slithering back inside her home. "You tell Lorelai to call us if she needs anything!"

"I'll do that, Babette!" Luke hollered, internally cringing at the thought of the town's involvement in his love life again.

Suddenly, the faint hum of a muffled engine directed his attention to where the road seemed to blend with the horizon. In a flash, the tan Jeep broke into view against the vibrant blue skyline. Luke sat straight up, tracking the Wrangler's gradual progression with unwavering focus until it finally rolled to a stop in the driveway.

Lorelai threw the Jeep in park and killed the engine. For a moment she sat frozen in the driver's seat, completely in awe, once again, at the man sitting on her porch steps awaiting her arrival. Through the windshield, her gaze locked on the blue eyes beneath the backwards baseball cap. At that moment, it dawned on Lorelai that, to her, Luke was truly her home, and no one else could ever fill the space he held so steadily in her heart.

As if caught in a relentless match of tug of war, the ache of losing Rory pulled at her, dragging her heart back to a hollow abyss of sadness. Flashing Luke a sad, tight lipped smile, a tear rolled down her already tear stained cheek as she surrendered the fight, allowing the sadness to take over once again.

Driven by an urge to be near her, as if to somehow absorb her pain, Luke leaped to his feet and made a beeline toward the Jeep. His arms held out wide at his sides, he quickly closed the distance as Lorelai threw open the driver's side door. In one swift motion, she swung her long legs out of the Jeep, hopped to the ground, then launched herself into Luke's chest.

In the middle of her front yard, Lorelai melted into him, allowing Luke's arms to hold her upright as she wept into the soft flannel of his chest. Whispering soothing words of comfort into her ear, Luke rhythmically rubbed slow circles over the contours of her back, gradually easing her sobs into quiet sighs.

In between a symphony of tiny sniffles, Lorelai softly murmured against his chest, "Sorry I'm late."

"Standard operating procedure for you."

Reluctantly, Lorelai allowed her arms to slip from his back. With a bashful glance downward, she swept her cascading curls back behind her ears as she shuffled backwards a step. "I had to stop for gas in Waterbury. The guy at the pump next to me sorta looked like LeVar Burton." She locked onto Luke's eyes with a mischievous grin. "You should know him, you big nerd, he was on Star Trek."

"I know who LeVar Burton is."

"Well, I told this kind man at the gas station he looked a little like LeVar and how Reading Rainbow was Rory's favorite show when she was about four or five. We used to watch it on the little tv we had set up in the potting shed since PBS actually came in pretty good with the rabbit ears. Rory would make a list of the books that were featured on the show each week and, when we went to the library on Wednesdays, we'd check out some of those books on the list. It never made much sense to me because Rory was reading at a much higher level than those books. So, when I finally asked her one day why she insisted on checking out books that didn't challenge her, she told me …" She briefly clamped her lips together to collect herself before continuing, "She said it was because she didn't want LeVar to feel bad that he wasn't reading at her level yet."

"You told the guy at the gas station all that?"

"Yea."

"He didn't at least call the asylum to see if they were missing someone?"

"You know, I wondered why he asked me if I knew who the current President was."

Out of nowhere, a jarring screech of a nearby window sliding open shattered their moment, yanking them out of the safety of their little world.

Simultaneously they spun their heads toward the neighbor's upstairs window just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of golden curls vanishing beyond the pane.

"They know," he groaned. "They saw us in front of the diner last night."

"Ugh, I was really hoping that you and I could, um …you know, figure some stuff out on our own before they -"

"Yea, me too."

"I'm sure Babette is starting the phone tree as we speak." Lorelai's eyes flitted toward her porch. "We should probably go inside, but that might be a little weird for you, huh? I mean, if it's weird we can sit on the porch or maybe we could -"

"I think …" He gently took her by the elbow and steered them to the porch. "It probably would be even weirder if we keep standing out here in your yard discussing whether or not it would be weird to go inside."

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he snatched the Doose's bag and the coffee from the top step. "It's probably cold by now," he said, extending the cup toward her before beginning the ascent toward the front door.

"Come on, Luke, you know I'll take caffeine any way I can get it; hot, iced, latte, expresso, cappuccino. One time, when I was going through some wicked withdrawal, I even tried to get my fix by eating a whole coffee cake."

"You're shameless."

"Shameless is just another word for confident, Hun." She nodded toward the bag in Luke's hand as they approached the door. "What kinda non-leafy green snacks did you bring me?"

"This …" He held the bag up to eye level. "Is just your classic cardiac cornucopia; Mallomars, Red Vines, Nutter Butters, M 's, Oreo Pop Tarts, Milk Duds, and Orange Crush."

Lorelai's posture softened as she laid her hand to her heart. "You brought me junk food?"

"I stopped at Doose's on the way over." He shrugged and pushed open the door. "It's no big deal."

"Okay, so tell me, Scooby-Doo, why did you bring me this delectable selection of Scooby Snacks?" she asked as they strolled into the kitchen. "Is there a mystery that needs solving? Maybe a phony phantom that needs to be unmasked by a couple of meddling kids?"

"I've been told that junk food was essential for a Gilmore wallow," he explained, unpacking the snacks from the brown paper bag and tossing them on the kitchen table. "I tried to focus on the chocolate. But I threw the Nutter Butters in because I thought the protein from the peanut butter would be marginally healthier."

Lorelai's eyes widened in fascination watching Luke empty each sugary tidbit from the bag, struck by how seamlessly he fit back into her kitchen. It was like he had never left. A paradoxical mix of cozy contentment and provocative allure. It was as if the naturalness of him being in her space once again reawakened a long-suppressed yearning inside of her.

Luke placed the two-liter Orange Crush bottle on the table before raising his unassuming gaze toward her. Immediately he recognized it. That captivating flicker of lust that played across the surface of her glistening blue irises. The subtle spark that consistently ignited a burning, unrestrained craving within him.

As if she could sense his growing need, Lorelai reached out and cupped his prickly cheek in her hand. Leaning closer, her lips softly brushed against his lower lip, lingering in a teasing, sensual caress. "I missed you so much," her warm breath murmured into his mouth.

"You have no idea," he growled, gripping her denim-clad hips tightly and pressing a desperate kiss against her parted lips. Responding to his unbridled intensity, Lorelai tipped her head, deepening the kiss while Luke's hands devoured the curves of her body with an insatiable need.

While he branded her neck with fiery, open mouthed, kisses, Lorelai gasped for air. "We're still so damn good at this," she panted, her fingers slipping under his t-shirt, tracing the contours of his firm muscles as they traveled up his chest.

Consumed with passion, Luke pinned her body against the kitchen table. As the legs shrieked against the floor, a soft giggle escaped Lorelai, driving Luke to escalate the action. Hooking his arm around her knee, he lifted her leg, wrapping it around his hip as he pressed himself closer to her and attacked her lips once again.

It was then that a jolt of fear gripped Lorelai. Her eyes suddenly snapped open. Ripping her lips from his, she exclaimed, "This is crazy!"

Lost in a lusty la-la land, Luke hummed, "Mmhmm," as he attacked the soft, creamy skin of her chest.

"Luke, no!" She placed her hands flat against his shoulders and pushed him off her. "We can't do this!"

The sound of her 'no' sent an instant chill down his spine. Eyes bulging, he gasped, "I'm sorry!" as he backed away from her, gripping the sides of the ball cap on his head.

As Luke's panic became increasingly apparent, Lorelai's eyes widened to mirror his. "Oh Luke, please don't be -"

"After last night, I just thought, you know …maybe. I guess I just read things the wrong way. I swear, Lorelai, I didn't come here today expecting that. I just wanted to be here for you and -"

"Luke!" she burst out, springing away from the table and wrapping her hand around his bicep. "Listen, you have nothing to be sorry about. I was the one who started that, and oh my god, it felt so good, but it's just …ugh!" she cried out in frustration. "I don't know about this."

"What don't you know about?" he asked, voice deepening as his eyebrows drew together.

"This!" she replied, flipping her hand indecisively between them.

"You don't know about us or you don't know about us having sex in your kitchen?"

"Is 'Both A and B' a choice? Because I think the answers are kinda interlinked."

Frustrated, Luke drug his hand over his jaw. "I'm …so confused."

"Welcome to Club Confusion." She offered him her hand. "My name is Lorelai and I'm your President."

"I don't exactly know what to do here, Lorelai. I'm just following your cues."

"I don't think there's a right or a wrong way to do this, Luke. We're kinda swimming in uncharted territory here. But I do think we need to define this 'new us' a little better because if we had continued with what we were doing for about ten more seconds, I'm not so sure this kitchen table would be rated PG anymore."

"That table must've found God because I remember it being stamped NC-17 when you thanked me for fixing your stove."

"Well since then, that table's been to confession, done its penance, and prays the rosary at least once a day."

Anxiety then flickered in Luke's eyes as he swallowed the lump down in his throat. "Are you, um …having second thoughts?"

"Second thoughts?!" she gasped, eyes widening with alarm at the apparent chaos still swirling in Luke's mind. "About us?"

"No Lorelai, second thoughts about your stance on the immigration debate."

Needing to reassure him, Lorelai pulled a chair out from the table and gestured with her hand for him to sit. With a sigh, Luke followed her lead, swinging his leg over the chair and settling down with a thud.

At the table, Lorelai tenderly cradled his hand between her palms. "I am not having second thoughts," she declared, locking eyes with him and holding his gaze until he acknowledged her with a barely perceptible nod. "It's just …well, I guess it feels like going to the mall before payday."

"You expect me to understand a shopping analogy?"

"Hang with me, Spiderman." She playfully patted his hand and began to explain, "Picture it …you find yourself at the mall on Tuesday but, of course, payday is on Friday. So, you window shop and peruse the clearance racks, until all of a sudden, as if dropped from heaven above, you come across the Holy Grail of evening attire. A super cute red dress with these adorable glittery beads -"

"Can't say I've ever had the impulse to purchase a dress," Luke interjected.

"Fine," she huffed, tossing a hand in the air. "A fishing pole. What we're shopping for doesn't really matter. What matters is that it's perfect, this …" She rolled her eyes. "Fishing pole. It fits your hands just right. It's the perfect length. The color compliments your skin tone to a tee." A touch of guilt colored her smile as she stopped mid-thought, then adjusted her statement with a shrug. "Sorry, flashed back to that dress for a second. Anyway, you're a few days away from payday and your checking account is scraping the bottom of the barrel. You'd be cutting it really close to bouncing that check you wrote to the electric company if you did buy that dress …" She gave her head a shake. "I mean fishing pole. So, in your head you're see-sawing back and forth between the little angel and devil perched on your shoulders. One's trying to talk some sense into you, saying that it's not worth the overdraft fees. The other is telling you that it's the only one left in your size and all you gotta do is hand your debit card to the cashier. You can worry tomorrow about gathering up all the candles in the house because the electric check's gonna bounce like a Mexican jumping bean."

Patience dwindling, Luke let out an exasperated sigh. "I think my reality check just bounced."

"What I'm saying, and probably failing miserably at, is, I really, really would like to purchase a 'horizontal us' as soon as possible but I wanna make sure this 'new us' doesn't bounce. I need to know that we have enough in our checking account so our lights stay on."

"We'll go as slow or as fast as you want." He flicked his gaze upward, fixing it intently on her, adding, "Just as long as we start."

Under the weight of his penetrating eyes, Lorelai lowered her sights to the safe haven of their now intertwined fingers. "We'll talk soon," she assured him, squeezing his hand a little tighter. "Maybe tomorrow, alright? I don't think I'm ready to discuss the 'old us' just yet, but I think we do need to know where both of our heads are on the 'new us'. So, for now, just so the lights don't cut out on us, we should probably avoid the mall …or Bass Pro Shop until we talk."

"You just let me know whenever you're ready."

"Okay," she said with a final nod before her face broke into a playful smirk. "So, if having your way with me in my kitchen wasn't part of your agenda for the day, what exactly was your plan?"

"Well, I've been told that a classic Gilmore wallow includes junk food and movies."

A spark of delight flickered in Lorelai's eyes. "Can I choose the movie?"

"Sure, just nothing too fruity."

"Maybe just a little fruity? How about Fried Green Tomatoes? What's Eating Gilbert Grape? Or maybe A Clockwork Orange?"

"If you'd eat an orange, I'll let you watch whatever the hell you wanna watch."

Lorelai's eyes instantly locked on the soda bottle on the table. "Dirty Dancing it is."

"Orange Crush doesn't count."

"Please, Luke," she begged, batting her eyelashes.

"What the hell is it with that stupid movie that makes women go goofy over it? Does nobody see the problems with the underlying social issues like the back-alley abortion or the statuatory rape? Not to mention the general creepiness that the main character is a teenager named Baby?"

"Luke!" She swatted at his hand. "Patrick Swayze. In. His. Prime."

A guttural groan rumbled from Luke as he tossed his head backward and begrudgingly spat out, "Fine."

With a burst of energy, Lorelai shot up from her seat, her whole face beaming. "Hey Luke, since you just like to see me happy, do you wanna know what would make me really happy? And I'm talking about unicorns leaping over sparkly rainbows with a little leprechaun swimming in a pot of gold at the end kinda happy."

"I wasn't aware that there's a specific shade of happiness that you're looking for."

"I wanna recreate the Johnny and Baby lift scene," she said as she started to layer the snacks Luke brought in her arms, one on top of the other.

"Are you itching for a taste of that delightful hospital food today?"

"Me or you?"

Luke plucked a glass out of the cupboard. "I'd be the odds on favorite to be hospitalized since it would be me catching the crazy lady in mid-air," he replied, reaching into the freezer for ice.

"But what if you drop me?"

"Then go ahead and dial up the meat wagon because we'll both need medical attention."

"Would you like to see me dance Baby's mambo scene instead?"

As Luke filled his glass under the faucet, a glance over his shoulder made his heart skip a beat - there she was again. Right before his eyes stood the fast-talking, fun loving woman with the wild curls and the blue eyes. The girl he'd fallen for so many years ago. It'd been a long time since he'd seen her …really seen her. "I think I'd like that," he said, his voice hitching only slightly as a faint smile crept across his lips.

"Great! I'll get the movie queued up and my dancing shoes on!" she called out, balancing a tower of cholesterol-laden snacks and a cup of coffee in her arms. All the while marveling at how natural it felt for Luke to be in her kitchen once again.

Later that afternoon, rays of sunlight streamed through the living room windows, creating a shimmering overlay that nearly split the TV screen in half. Dominating one side of the screen was Johnny and Baby's end-of-season talent show dance, while the other half starkly displayed the mirrored shadows of three figures lounging on the couch.

Barely registering the movie playing on the screen, Luke stole a quick glance at the warm figures flanking him. On one side, cozily tucked under his arm, sat a mound of curls belonging to a woman who took it upon herself to deliver nonstop commentary throughout the entire movie, drowning out even her new surround sound system. His other side was occupied by a furry, floppy-eared canine lying curled up in a cozy ball.

Tucking deeper into the warm flannel under Luke's arm, Lorelai drifted into a rare quiet moment, her attention solely on the gentle thump in Luke's chest. A subtle yawn gently broke through Lorelai's tranquil state, drawing her eyes to Luke's lap where Paul Anka was nestled in a relaxed slumber, his head tilted back in blissful drowsiness. "I think Paul Anka missed you too," she listlessly cooed.

Luke scoffed. "Dogs can't miss people. A canine's concept of time is 'when is my next meal?'. So, since I'm not holding his kibble, he's probably just happy to see a new face to drop a tennis ball on."

"That's not true. Look at him, Luke." She gave the furry canine a gentle scratch on the head. "He hasn't left your side since the movie started."

"I'm sure that has less to do with him missing me and more to do with me wearing the same shirt that I grilled sausage in this morning."

"Hey, that sweet smell of breakfast meat is a unique quality of yours that I find incredibly appealing." She nuzzled her nose into the soft folds of Luke's shirt and inhaled his heady blend of woodsy musk sprinkled with a hint of smoky bacon. "Mmmm, what's a girl gotta do to get herself one of these babies?"

Luke's lips twitched in a smug smile. "You want one of my shirts?"

"Preferably one that's been sitting at the bottom of your laundry basket for a couple of days."

"Why the hell would you want a shirt that looks and smells like it's been used as a lunch napkin?"

"Hun, we've been over this a million times. I want a shirt that smells like you, not your laundry detergent."

"What about the blue one you used to always wear? If you don't think it resembles a road map to last year's breakfast specials anymore, I could get Caesar to clean the grill with it tonight."

The memory of her cherished blue and white plaid sent a surge of sadness through Lorelai, leaving her treading in a fountain of regret. "It's gone. I, ah …" she faltered as her gut twisted itself inside out. "I think it would've hurt too much to see it again. At least that was my reasoning at the time. That was just one of the many notches added to the 'Bad Decision Belt' after …everything."

"Oh," was all Luke could mutter as they tumbled into a pit of awkward silence.

Reaching her limit with the uncomfortable moment, Lorelai finally grumbled, "It's not like I ceremoniously burnt it in effigy like Judas Iscariot. I just got rid of it, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, then offered the solitary fix that came to his mind. "I'll bring you over another shirt tonight."

"You're coming back?!"

Luke's eyes flew open in panic. "Oh, I, uh …I didn't, um, mean that, ah,-"

Just as Luke was floundering, the phone conveniently rang, providing a much needed distraction from his embarrassing blunder.

In a sweeping motion, Lorelai snatched the cordless phone from the end table. A look of relief flashed across her face as she checked the called ID. "Rory," she mouthed to Luke, pushing the 'talk' button and pressing the handset to her ear. "Did the world's greatest reporter make it to Iowa safely?"

While Lorelai and Rory launched into rapid-fire dialogue, Luke gathered up the debris covering the coffee table and headed toward the kitchen. Giving the girls their space to chat, he busied himself in the kitchen, tidying up the dishes in the sink and taking out the trash.

Pushing open the back door, Luke returned to the kitchen to find Lorelai standing against the counter, arms casually crossed over her chest. "She told me to tell you 'hi'," Lorelai said, watching Luke at the faucet lathering soap over his hands.

"Oh yea? How is she?"

"She seems good …just checked into her hotel. Got her press credentials, which apparently come with a lanyard now instead of the old-timey fedora. So, that's a bit of a letdown. But, she has a briefing later this afternoon and plans to meet up with another journalist, new to the campaign, for dinner tonight."

"Good," he said, drying his hands on a towel. "She's getting acclimated. Meeting new people."

Lorelai pressed her lips into a weak, pensive smile. "Yea, it's good."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm …" She tilted her head, pondering his question for a brief moment before responding, "Okay. It was good to hear her voice. It's kinda like when she went to Yale, just a thousand miles further away. I think it's just gonna take some time to get used to. Kinda like when Nabisco changed the Oreo recipe a few years back."

Unconvinced, Luke sighed, "Okay," before casting his eyes to his wristwatch. "Listen, Lorelai, I have to get back to the diner to help Caesar and Zack with the dinner rush but -"

"But you're coming back. That's what you said, right?"

"I, uh, …thought I'd bring you a burger or -"

"Burger sounds good. And while you're at it, extra-chili, chili cheese fries, please."

"Angina in a styrofoam container. Got it."

"So, um …" Lorelai gathered her courage with a deep breath. "You wanna stay over?"

A look of doubt etched his face. "I don't know. Would that be okay?"

"Well, I'll have to check with Mom and Dad, but as long as we keep the giggling and prank calls to a minimum, I don't think they'll have a problem with it."

"What happened to making sure the lights don't go out?"

"We can keep the entire house aglow by having a perfectly platonic slumber party. We'll make a pillow-fort and have an epic pillow fight. Then we'll play Truth or Dare and whoever falls asleep first will wake up to a frozen bra."

Luke hesitated, his thoughts churning over the recent past. Caught between the desire to be next to her and the undeniable evidence that another man had recently shared her space, he curtly replied, "I'll sleep on the couch, but I'm not sleeping on that bed."

A bewildered look crossed Lorelai's face for a second before the realization dawned on her. "Oh."

"Yea …oh."

"I got a whole new bedroom set," she blurted out, adding, "After the divorce. Plus a fresh coat of paint. I don't know if that makes things better but it did for me …a little at least."

"It's only been a few months, you must've had a crystal ball to choose a color that fast."

"I went with that summer-rain blue that made our short list when we remodeled."

"That was my first choice."

"I know," she uttered softly, a warm smile gracing her face. "I also may have watched just a little too much HGTV one weekend and attempted a DIY wallpapering of the closet. I went through this short-lived Robert Redford phase and thought that a Great Gatsby theme would really set off my wardrobe. So, I found this beautiful, vintage art-deco print online, and it turned out great …and totally level if you tip your head to the side at about a forty-five degree angle."

"I may have to see that for myself," he remarked with a hint of laughter.

"Listen, I know you hate the word "vibe" but …come on, two failed relationships. There were definitely bad vibes with that room." She stepped forward, positioning herself squarely before him and nestled her hand into his. "I know there's gonna be stuff that comes up between us that's gonna be a little weird and uncomfortable. I think the only way to make that stuff not awkward anymore is by spending time together. And …you know, It'd be kinda nice to have another warm body in this house tonight. You never know when a prowler may start prowling around. I've heard they like to target recent empty-nesters. You wouldn't want me to succumb to a prowling, would you?"

"Oh, I'd be riddled with guilt for years."

"So, for the sake of avoiding future guilt, you'll stay?"

"I'll stay. But, I gotta get going soon if I'm coming back in a few hours."

"Okay. I'm gonna lay down for a little while …didn't get much sleep last night. So, just let yourself in. The key's in the turtle."

"I still have a key."

With a brief pause, Lorelai's gaze darted to the blue hat perched atop Luke's head. Instantly, as if a light had been switched, her features sparkled with a warm understanding. He had held onto the relics that embodied their past. Giving into the moment, she leaned close and gently grazed Luke's soft lips with a lingering farewell kiss.

"Call if you need anything," he said, mouth curled in a lopsided grin, digging his keys out of his front pocket.

"I need a new shirt! The greasier the better."

Nose wrinkled, Luke pulled open the back door and tossed his head over his shoulder. "You're just lucky I haven't done laundry in a week."