Reality
Luke sat at the kitchen table, staring at the books strewn out before him. He was going to be stuck here for ages, by the look of things. He picked up a pencil lying nearby, and tried to balance it on the tip of his finger, soon forgetting about all the work he had to get done this evening. All his focus was now fixed on that pencil. He had only dropped it about four times before he finally figured out how to get it to linger upright on his index finger for an impressive twenty seconds.
He let it drop to the table then picked it back up. Luke contemplated his next trick, something he hoped turned out a little better than the stupid droopy pencil thing that Bootsie was always doing. It was impressive in kindergarten, watching Bootsie wave the pencil around in a way that made it look like he was shaking a limp noodle, but he was a sophisticated first grader now and he had moved on to bigger and better things like the pencil fight he and Scoot had been waging for weeks. The battle pencils were deeply scarred from the constant hits they had been taking, but neither Scooter nor Luke had been able to muster a blow hard enough yet to actually break the other's pencil.
Luke heard hushed voices in the living room, but he wouldn't turn to look at who the speakers were. He was doing his best to ignore the activity going on around him.
Liz stood at the kitchen doorway, peering around the corner occasionally. Every now and then, she looked back at Luke, her eyes wide and uncertain. Luke didn't notice. He was now absorbed in trying to get his pencil to remain in place on his curled upper lip. The pencil kept slipping and falling to the table. Luke scowled at the writing implement.
Liz finally stepped away from her lookout duties and clomped over to the kitchen table. Her footsteps echoed loudly, causing Luke to look up and glare at her scornfully.
"What the hell, Lizzie? Mom's going to go mental if she sees you wearing her dancing shoes again," Luke said.
Liz climbed up in the chair across from Luke, uncertainty still lurking behind her eyes.
"Not s'posed to cuss," she noted quietly.
"Who's going to find out, you big tattle-tale?"
Liz thought for a minute. "Want a Twinkie," she said.
Luke narrowed his eyes at Liz. He looked in the direction of the living room once more before sneaking over to the cabinet and pulling out the box of Twinkies. He withdrew one of the wrapped treats and flung it at the kitchen table, silently assenting to his little sister's sudden ability to blackmail.
"Think fast, dork," he cackled and watched the Twinkie sail toward Liz's head.
Liz ducked right before the Twinkie hit the table and skittered off the edge. She slid off the chair and disappeared from view to retrieve the runaway pastry. One hand suddenly appeared on the table top, smashed Twinkie in its grasp, then a second appeared, a disheveled, mostly nude Barbie clenched in it. Liz's head popped up.
"Barbie wants a Twinkie, too," she said.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Barbie's out of luck, no more Twinkies."
Liz scowled and climbed back into her chair.
Luke scowled back. "Eat your Twinkie. And if you rat me out, Barbie's getting a haircut, got it?"
Liz nodded fearfully and clutched her Barbie doll close to her chest. "Got it," she promised and began to eat her squashed snack.
Luke turned his attention back to his pencil. He picked it up, and stuck it under his upper lip, letting it dangle. Liz stopped eating her Twinkie, fascinated by his efforts. He grabbed another pencil and jammed it under the other side of his lip.
Luke raised his eyebrows, enjoying Liz's undivided attention. Standing up, he raised his hands menacingly over his head, walking slowly toward Liz.
"Blegh, I vant to suck your blood," Luke said, trying not to laugh at the fear on his stupid sister's face.
"Stoppit, Luke," she said.
"Blegh, blegh," Luke replied, trying, not very successfully, to execute an evil hiss around the pencils jammed in his mouth. Liz suddenly let out an earsplitting howl and began to cry.
Luke shook his head and yanked the pencils out of his mouth. "Jeez, you're dumb," he said and retreated to his chair.
"Lucas!" a voice boomed from the doorway. Luke and Liz both jumped and turned toward the sound.
"Are you picking on your sister again?" William Danes asked angrily.
"No, sir," Luke muttered and tried to look like he was deeply involved with his homework.
"Then why is Lizzie crying?"
Liz sniffed loudly and whined, "Luke scared me, Daddy."
Luke's head shot up and he glared at Liz. The little cry-baby was going to pay for finking on him. he immediately started figuring out which Barbie was going to pay for her owner's crime. The last time Liz ratted him out, her favorite Barbie had undergone a mysterious amputation of the left leg. This time, Luke might not stop at a haircut. He was thinking a total lobotomy was in order.
"Liz took a Twinkie without asking, and I told her to put it back, and she started crying like a big baby," Luke yelped, figuring if he was going down, he was taking Liz down with him.
Liz's jaw dropped at the blatant lie Luke had just concocted. "Nuh-uh, Luke gave me the Twinkie cuz he said H-E- double hockey sticks, and then he tried to bite me," she screeched in self-defense.
"You're such a whiner," Luke yelled. "Dad, she just..."
"Enough!" William growled.
Liz and Luke clamped their mouths shut simultaneously. Both knew better than to push the issue any further. William was not one to suffer these immature battles between the siblings. The last time Luke had misjudged his father's patience, he had walked around with a handprint on his ass for two days.
William assessed the situation before him. Both children had wisely chosen to cease and desist with the bickering. "Lizzie, go to your room and take a breather," William said.
"But, Daddy..." Liz tried to protest.
"No." William pointed toward the stairs. "Go now. You have fifteen minutes to reflect on why sneaking Twinkies before dinner got you into trouble. And don't come downstairs until I say you can."
"But Luke was being mean!" she wailed. "And he cussed too! He cusses a lot and..."
"Lizzie, go!"
Liz slunk toward the stairs, sticking her tongue out at Luke when she thought her father wasn't looking.
"Do you want to make it thirty minutes?" William asked, knowing full well that Liz wasn't capable of giving up without a fight.
Liz scowled. "No, sir," she replied and trudged up the stairs in defeat.
William turned his attention to Luke, who was still trying to avoid punishment by pretending to be studious.
"Lucas," William said. His voice lost some of its sternness.
Luke rolled his eyes up cautiously at his father. "Yes, sir?"
William sighed and sat down in the chair next to him. Luke had noticed how tired his father was looking lately, and tonight was the worst he had ever looked. William hadn't shaved for days, he had dark circles under his eyes, and the flannel shirt he was wearing was the same one he had on yesterday. Luke knew things were bad in the Danes household, but it only really ever sunk in when he saw his father looking the way he looked now.
"I'm sorry," Luke whispered, before his father could begin his lecture. He meant it. He was really sorry for acting like a jerk to Liz and causing a ruckus. His father had already begged him to be on his best behavior since things had started getting weird, and Luke really was trying to behave, most of the time, anyway. The constant parade of visitors over the last few weeks, the hushed tones, the serious looks on everyone's faces were enough to emphasize that life in the Danes household was far from normal. Luke had taken note of all this, and had been trying his best to stay out of the way and under the radar. It wasn't his fault that Liz kept causing trouble.
William leaned over and ruffled the boy's hair. Poor kid didn't have a clue what was going to happen. Luke stared back at him, waiting for his rebuke.
"Luke," William began again. "I need you to try to be more patient with your sister. I know it can be hard sometimes, but you've got to just learn to go with the flow with that kid. She's a free spirit, that one." Just like her mother. Head always in the clouds, never looking before she leapt, thinking with her heart and not with her head. William had to smile at that. If his wife was one to think with her head, he'd still be single and living in a dirty apartment, scrounging for food at diners and bars since he didn't even have the ability to boil water without screwing it up somehow.
"Yes, sir," Luke said, sorrowful. He was going with the flow, or so he thought. He gave her the darn Twinkie, didn't he?
William looked over his should at Mia, his wife's best friend, who was quietly straightening up the living room. Things were getting really bad, really fast, and he knew he couldn't put off having a serious talk with his eldest child any longer. Mia looked up briefly and gave William an encouraging nod that Luke didn't notice. William turned back to the table, clearing his throat nervously.
"Listen, kid, we have to talk about some things. Some grown up things. You think you can handle that?" William asked, his eyes softly scrutinizing his boy's face. He was too young to have to face this, William knew. He wasn't as worried about Liz. She was still young enough to mercifully not be able to truly understand the gravity of the situation. Luke however, was just old enough to understand the finality of what was happening, to recognize the ugliness of what lay ahead, and to really feel the pain and loss with which they were about to be confronted.
Luke wouldn't look at his father. He knew what was coming. At least he thought he did. This wasn't something he was ready to accept, and he wanted to tell his father to just leave him alone and deal with it on his own. He was the grown up, not Luke. He only wanted to worry about his softball game next weekend, not about everything that was going on here. Luke fidgeted in his chair.
William reached out and gently lifted Luke's chin up until the boy grudgingly made eye contact with him. He marveled at this little carbon copy of himself that sat before him. Everything this kid did was a mirror image of what William did. The stubborn set of Luke's jaw was William's stubborn set of the jaw. The way Luke held his head when he was spoken to, the way he sometimes jutted out his chin, the way he cocked it when he was listening to someone were William's ways of holding his head.
Luke's temper was definitely William's temper, poor kid. Even the way Luke would fly off into a rant about something that was eating at him, arms flailing wildly, accentuating his frustration, those were William's ways. But those eyes, William realized, those big blue eyes were all Grace. He didn't know how he was ever going to make it through this when all was said and done, always seeing his Gracie's eyes staring at him whenever he looked at his only son.
"Luke?" he whispered, pulling himself back to the task at hand.
Luke's eyes stung as he tried to will away the tears that threatened to form. "Mom's sick," Luke said, his voice quavering.
"Yes," William said.
"Really sick."
William squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. "Yeah, hon, she's really sick," he said.
Luke picked at his shirt, sneaking a glance at his father who still had his eyes shut tight.
"Is she going to get better soon?" he asked hopefully.
William opened his eyes. Luke froze at the sight of the single tear that slid down his father's cheek.
"No, kiddo," William whispered. "She isn't going to get better."
Luke dropped his forehead onto the table, tears exploding from his eyes. He wept silently as he felt his father lay his hand on his head, softly stroking his hair.
William sat still, trying not to cry himself. He knew once he started, there would be no end to the tears, and the last thing Luke needed right now was to watch his father come unhinged. He buried his face in his free hand, trying not to dwell on the shudders he could feel overtaking his quietly sobbing boy. He felt his heart breaking. The silent tears Luke was shedding were far more gut wrenching to William than any other reaction Luke could have possibly had.
Luke's tears finally subsided. William looked up as he realized his son's trembling had eased. He could only feel the steady rise and fall of Luke's breathing.
"Hey, guy," William whispered, trying to gauge if Luke was ready to talk.
Luke slowly raised his head. William winced at his tear streaked face and red puffy eyes.
"What?" Luke muttered, angrily swiping at the wetness on his cheeks. William pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Luke's nose. Luke stared at his father, his blue eyes dark and stormy.
"Come here," William said. Luke stood up and walked to his father's side. William contemplated his son for a moment, as Luke stared at his grubby sneakers. William suddenly pulled Luke into his arms, engulfing him in a long hug. Luke resisted at first, but finally buried his face in his father's chest. William took Luke's cue and pulled him up into his lap, cradling the boy in his arms. Luke wasn't interested in fighting his father's attempts to comfort him anymore. He hated being treated like a baby, but right now, the only thing he wanted in the world was for someone to hold him tight enough to keep all the ugliness in his life far away.
For now, Luke thought, the only thing he needed was to have his father hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. He knew they were lies, the quiet assurances his father murmured to him, but right now, the lies were all he really had going for him.
Fracture
Liz stared at her cup of hot chocolate, idly poking at the marshmallows floating on the surface, and Luke leaned against the kitchen counter, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for Liz to finish up with her drink.
Luke sighed. "Come on, Lizzie, you were supposed to be in bed an hour ago. Dad's gonna kick my ass if he finds out you're still awake."
Liz crinkled her nose at Luke. "Still not s'posed to cuss," she pouted, trying to delay her bedtime a few more minutes.
"Shut up," Luke said. He had been saying hell and ass for months now. It was old news. He hadn't gotten up the nerve yet to try any of the big cusses, but he had recently been working through the moral dilemma of whether calling someone a b-i-t-c-h was the same as just outright saying bitch. Whatever the final decision was, he had learned the hard way not to call Bootsie a b-i-t-c-h, at the very least. Bootsie ran crying to his mother, and his mother had called Luke's father. There was a fresh handprint on Luke's backside, but the sting was worth it when he overheard his father laughing to Mia about how Bootsie insisted Luke had called him a b-a-t-c-h. It was the first time the elder Danes had laughed in months, he was sure of it.
"All right, Lizzie, that's enough, let's go," Luke said.
He was tired, and for once, he wanted to go to bed. He had been trying to man up since he and his father had their talk about Luke's mother a few weeks ago. He was taking out the trash, doing dishes, and even trying to cook on occasion. William had carried Grace out to the kitchen just three weeks ago, sitting her at the table as she had requested of him so she could coach Luke along while he attempted a meat loaf dinner with a side of canned corn and instant mashed potatoes.
Grace had given William a look, and he had left her and Luke alone for a while. Luke scurried around the kitchen, climbing on shelves to pull down the various ingredients that Grace was listing for him. He had plopped into a chair next to his mother as he put the meat loaf together and soaked up every bit of attention his mother had been able to lavish on him at the time. They joked, they laughed, and they even committed the cardinal sin of applying the five second rule when Luke sent a rogue hunk of beef flying to the floor.
She had a little more strength than usual that night, and she had managed to make it up to the time that Luke had placed the meat loaf in the oven. Luke felt a momentary rush of anger when his father had finally come to take Grace back to bed, but it quickly abated when he saw that his mother could barely keep her eyes open.
Liz still hadn't budged from her position at the table. Luke stomped over to her. "Come on, Liz, we gotta go to bed now," he said.
"You're not Daddy," Liz stubbornly pointed out, but she relented and let Luke lead her upstairs to her bedroom. He slowed as they passed their parents' room. The door was slightly ajar, and Luke could see his dad slumped in the armchair in the corner. Luke craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his mother, but could only see the foot of the hospital bed that had been placed there for her last week. William and Grace's normal bed was now disassembled and currently taking up space in the spare room. William had taken to sleeping in that armchair every night, to Grace's chagrin, waving off her pleas for him to, at the very least, bring in a cot so he could stretch out.
"Mommy's belly is sick," Liz whispered, breaking Luke out of his reverie. He looked down at his little sister, feeling a little envious of her. She just didn't get it. He wished he didn't get it too.
"Yeah." Luke sighed, pulling Liz away from the door. "She's got a sick belly." He deposited Liz in her bed, and struggled through yet another reading of Where the Wild Things Are. He had the reading thing pretty much down, now, but he still had to sound out the bigger words. He was much better at math, but somehow, he didn't think Liz would tolerate a reading of "If Tom had six apples, and Mary had three..."
When she’d finally drifted off to sleep, Luke tiptoed out of Liz's bedroom. He started to turn toward his own room, but he heard a noise coming from his parents' room. Luke snuck up to their door to investigate.
As he craned his neck into the bedroom, trying to locate the source of the sound, he brushed up against the door, causing it to move slightly. Luke cringed as the ultra-sensitive hinges let out a loud squeak.
"Lucas, that you?" He heard a voice whisper.
Busted, Luke thought. He slunk into the bedroom, expecting his father to be ready with a lecture. His dad, however, was still fast asleep. Luke looked over at the hospital bed, and saw his mother curled up on her side, smiling wanly at him. She motioned for him to come closer. Luke complied, feeling bad because he felt shy around his mother all the time now. It sometimes felt like there was a total stranger living in this room now.
"You should be in bed," Grace said weakly.
"Stupid Liz wouldn't go to bed," Luke said.
Grace chuckled. "Don't call your sister stupid, squirt," she admonished.
Luke nodded, trying not to look at the scarf on his mother's head. That scarf had long ago replaced the wavy dark blonde hair that used to frame his mother's face and cascade well past her shoulders. Luke missed her hair. He used to think his mother was the prettiest mom in town, and now he barely recognized her.
She was painfully thin, her cheeks were hollowed and dark circles made her now dull and lifeless eyes look sunken in. She was very pale, ghostly white. Luke played with the edge of a bed sheet as he tried to remember what his mother had looked like before she got sick. He winced when he realized it was hard to remember a healthy Grace Danes.
Grace patted the bed and motioned for Luke to climb in. He happily complied, trying to be as gentle as possible as he curled up at his mother's side.
"What's on your mind, punk?" Grace asked. Luke smiled. His mother never used the same nickname twice. It was only when Grace uttered the unholy trifecta of Lucas Andrew Danes that he knew the wrath of God was about to beat down upon his shoulders.
Luke shrugged, not wanting to bother her with all the scary thoughts that rolled around in his mind. He would be here for hours if he told her everything that was on his mind.
Grace ran a finger across Luke's forehead, stopping at the center. She softly poked at the spot.
"Okay, so what's going on right there?" she pressed. "What particular thought am I pointing at right now?" Grace had her methods for getting her stubborn son to talk.
Luke looked uncertainly at his mother. "You don't go see the doctor anymore," he said.
Grace kissed Luke's forehead. "No, I don't need to go to the doctor anymore, baby."
"But how do you get your medicine if you don't go to the doctor?" Luke asked.
Grace sighed. "I don't take medicine anymore, Lucas."
Luke flinched. She just used his whole first name. Not a good sign.
"Why not?"
Grace placed a hand on Luke's face. Her eyes shone with tears.
"Daddy said that you two talked about how sick I am," Grace said, looking into her son's eyes. "The medicine I was taking didn't make me get better. It won't help. Your father and I talked, and we decided … at least I decided, that I should stop taking the medicine. It just made me feel yuckier than I already feel, anyway."
Luke furrowed his brow. "Well, then get new medicine," he said.
Grace shook her head. "There isn't any. I've already taken everything the doctors can give me."
Luke was silent. He squirmed closer to his mother and Grace rolled painfully onto her back, motioning for Luke to reposition himself so she could hold him. He scooted up, laying his head on his mother's shoulder. Grace idly played with his hair, ignoring how difficult it was to keep her own arm up. She waited until her son decided he was ready to speak again.
"Don't go," Luke whispered, finally voicing his knowledge that his mother was dying. Tears welled up in his eyes. Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep them from falling.
"I don't want to go," Grace said, her voice quavering. "But I can't stay, Lucas. It's not up to me."
Luke's tears finally broke free. Grace let her own tears flow when she heard Luke try to stifle a sob.
"Not fair," Luke said angrily.
"No," Grace agreed. "It most certainly is not fair at all."
"I love you, Mommy," Luke whispered, burying his face into Grace's shoulder.
"Aw, kid." She sighed. "You have no clue how much I love you back."
Luke opened his eyes and looked around. Grey light was now filtering into the bedroom as dawn slowly approached. He had fallen asleep next to his mother, exhausted from crying. He saw his father stirring in the armchair in the corner. He knew he should go wake up his dad, but he didn't want to get up yet. He just wanted to lie in his mother's arms for a little while longer.
William was slow to awaken. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he tried to stretch out the ever present kink in his neck. He looked over at Grace's bed, seeing their boy lying next to her. Luke was awake, and William watched him curiously for a moment as he stared out the window. William stood up and walked over to the bed.
"Hey, Luke. When did you come in here?" William whispered, trying not to wake Grace.
Luke continued staring out the window, the blue of his eyes as grey as the murky morning sky.
"Luke?" William said, a little louder this time.
Luke looked up at his father, eyes wide. "I don't hear her heart anymore," Luke whispered and returned his gaze to the window.
His son's words jolted him, and he laid his hand on his wife's cheek. It was cold.
"Gracie?" William called, tears springing up in his eyes.
"She had to go." Luke’s voice was a dull monotone. He jammed his thumb into his mouth, and stared out the window at the sun that was just peeking over the rooftops while his father collapsed at the side of the hospital bed, sobbing and calling out his mother's name.
Disconnect
Luke stood at his father's side, absent-mindedly reaching up to clutch William's coat-tail from time to time. As the mourners approached William to offer their condolences, Luke would shrink back and hide behind his father, returning to William's side only when they were alone again.
William noted Luke's somber game of hide and seek. The next time Luke started to maneuver behind, William stopped him by gently placing his hand on Luke's back, and leading the boy back to stand at his father's side. Luke looked up at his father, eyes wide. William tried to offer him a supportive smile, but he didn't smile back. William attempted to get him to acknowledge the townsfolk as they told the child how sorry they were for him, and how brave they thought he was, but Luke would only stare at the ground, pressing back into William's hand, trying to get away from them.
William leaned down over Luke. "Hey, champ," he whispered. "Go give Mia a break and keep an eye on Lizzie. Make sure she stays out of trouble." Luke nodded, and walked away from William, hands jammed in his pockets. William sighed. The boy had barely said two words to anyone since the morning William had woken up to find his wife dead with Luke curled up next to her.
He still didn't even know if Luke had actually witnessed his mother's death, or if he awoke to her lifeless body beside him. In either case, William thought with a shudder, he had failed miserably at shielding his children from that inevitable moment. Either way, Luke had been all alone in whatever he had experienced. William had spent the sleepless nights since Grace's passing alternating between the sight of the love of his love lying motionless in her hospital bed, and the vacant look in his only son's eyes as he wordlessly sucked his thumb.
Luke walked out to the porch where Mia and Liz were deeply immersed in a game of Slap Jack. Liz randomly slapped at anything Mia laid down. Mia chuckled when Liz slapped the three of hearts she had just placed on the pile, and put up no fight while Liz triumphantly claimed the stack of cards. Luke leaned on the porch railing, sullenly watching them play.
"Hello, Lucas," Mia said. Luke only glared at the cards on the small table.
"Luke!" Liz cried as she swept the cards to the side. "Play Dominoes!" she said, grabbing the box of dominoes beside her.
Luke rolled his eyes.
"You have things under control here if I step inside for a while?" Mia queried, shooting Luke a sympathetic smile. Liz and her game playing techniques left much to be desired for all of her opponents, and only the most patient of players could keep up with the girl’s constant rule changing and improvisational moves. Luke nodded in resignation.
Mia stood up and gave Luke a quick peck on the forehead, feeling him flinch as she made contact with him. "See you later, Lizzie," Mia said brightly, "I bow to your superior Slap Jack skills."
"Yup!" Liz exclaimed, not looking up from the dominoes she was now dividing up between herself and Luke.
As Mia went into the house, Luke idly began standing the dominoes upright. Liz followed suit, happily acquiescing to the Knock 'Em Down version of Dominoes that Luke was initiating.
"I had apple pie," Liz informed Luke. "With ice cream, too."
Luke nodded, concentrating on the wooden tiles before him.
"Did you have pie?" Liz asked, worried that her big brother might have gained access to a more impressive dessert that she hadn't been made aware of.
Luke shook his head.
"Why not?" Liz queried.
Luke shrugged.
"But, there's PIE, dummy," she said. "You eat pie when there's pie to eat."
Luke shot his sister a withering look.
Liz scrunched her nose up at her brother. "You're grumpy," she surmised.
He grabbed more tiles and curved his row of upright dominoes around into a second row. Liz concentrated on doing the same. Both children fell silent as their respective rows of dominoes crept closer.
"Mia made s'ghetti pie," Liz said, trying to make conversation.
He nodded.
"I had s'ghetti pie AFTER I had apple pie." Liz giggled.
Luke shook his head, annoyed with his yammering sister.
"When's Mommy coming home?" Liz looked expectantly at Luke.
He jerked involuntarily at Liz's question, jarring the table and knocking most of the dominoes over.
Liz gasped. "We almost made it that time," she whispered sadly.
Luke jumped up, anger dancing across his face.
"Where you going'?" Liz asked. "Is it time to get Mommy now?"
"Shut up!" Luke bellowed.
Liz sniffled, tears welling in her eyes at her brother's sudden outburst.
"I'm telling Mommy you're being a big jerk again.”
"You're an idiot," Luke raged. "Mom's dead. They took her out of here in a bag, you dumbass. Where do you think she went? She's dead. She's not visiting Grandma. She's in a hole in the ground. So stop asking stupid questions, already. She's not coming back, so get used to it, asswipe." Luke spun around, intending to storm down the porch steps to... somewhere else. Instead he ran face-first into his father's stomach.
Luke tried to pull back, but his father held him tight against him.
"What did I tell you about the swears, kid?" William growled. He rubbed his son's shoulder. Luke sank into his father's embrace, fighting the angry tears that were again threatening to flow.
"You going to talk to me now?" William pressed, hoping Luke was ready to open up finally.
Luke jerked away from his father suddenly, glaring up at him.
"Stubborn as a mule, aren't you?" William sighed when Luke stomped down the porch steps and disappeared around the corner of the house.
William sat down wearily on the steps. He wasn't going to budge until the boy came to him. He leaned up against the railing and closed his eyes, expecting to be waiting for quite a while. He didn't notice the guests who quietly made their way around him as they left, trying not to disturb the grieving man. He didn't notice Mia usher Liz back into the house, luring her with promises of more pie. He had no idea when he actually fell asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, it was dark, and everything was quiet. William sat up with a start, wondering if Luke had even come home yet and if not, where in the hell had he gone?
As William leapt to his feet, he caught a glimpse of a form next to him. He let out a relieved sigh and realized Luke had been sitting next to him all along. William lowered himself back down on the step and looked his son over. He cautiously reached over and put his arm around the boy, not wanting to send him running away again. Luke stiffened but relaxed after a bit.
"Sorry," Luke whispered, idly poking the step below him with a stick. He didn't look at William. His eyes were red and swollen, and William could see the tell-tale evidence of the tracks Luke's recently shed tears had taken.
William shrugged. "Get out of jail free ticket," he said. "Just ease up on the swears, already. You're going to have your sister cussing like a sailor before she learns to tie her shoelaces."
Luke snorted. "Dummy's never gonna figure out how to tie her shoelaces," he said.
William laughed. "We'll have to work on that," he admitted to Luke. "Bunny Ears method seems to be a bust."
Luke let out a guffaw. "Duct tape!"
William laughed harder. "We'll hollow out a couple of duck decoys, tell everyone she's from Holland.”
"Make her wear your skis," Luke said and doubled over with laughter.
"Shellac her socks and tell her to stay away from puddles," William choked out, collapsing onto his back in laughter. Luke followed suit. The pair rocked back and forth, convulsing with giggles for several minutes.
William finally regained self-control and sat up, wiping away the tears that had squeezed their way out. "That felt good.”
Luke sat up next to his father. "Yeah," he agreed and swiped at his nose with his sleeve.
William sighed. "Think we can handle this?" he asked. He pulled Luke's arm away from his nose, and handed him a handkerchief
Luke shrugged. "I dunno," he said and wiped his nose with the hanky.
"I don't think we have a choice here," William said. "I need your help, squirt. I can't do all this on my own."
Luke nodded. "I'll try.”
"Thanks, kid." William tousled Luke's hair. They sat together in silence for a long time, contemplating the fireflies and moths that flew around their heads. William finally broke the silence. "Did you see her go?" he asked.
Luke looked warily at his father. He nodded and looked down at his shoes, fidgeting with his shoelaces.
"Was she okay?" William whispered, pain etched on his face.
Luke cocked his head to the side, still playing with his shoelaces. William could see his furrowed brow and rubbed his back, encouraging Luke on.
"She said she was sorry," Luke said.
William drew in his breath sharply. "Did you tell her not to worry about that?"
Luke nodded. "I told her you wouldn't be mad."
William moaned softly, stunned that a little boy who couldn't remember not to snot up his shirtsleeves had coached a dying woman through her final moments.
Luke's head suddenly snapped up. "You aren't mad at her, are you?" he asked, worry creasing his forehead.
"No!" William exclaimed. "I'm not mad at her. I just wish... I wish I could have said goodbye. I wish you didn't have to deal with that all alone."
Luke scrunched up his nose, trying to hide his discomfort. "She just went to sleep," he said.
William contemplated his son, awe-struck. "Were you scared?"
"Yeah," Luke said.
William stroked his son's cheek. "I would have been scared, too," he assured the boy.
Luke looked up, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"
"Yup," William nodded. "You should have come and woke me up."
Luke sighed. "I know."
"It's okay that you didn't though," William said reassuringly. "You did good by your Mom."
"I did?" Luke whispered, relief swimming in his eyes. William swept Luke up into a big bear hug.
"Yeah, kid, you did." William sighed. "You're something else, you know that?"
"Can't breathe," Luke wheezed, his voice muffled.William set his son free from his embrace and stood up.
"Come on," he grunted at Luke, holding his hand out for his son. "We've got some shellacking to do tonight."
Luke let his father lead him back into the house. "What about the decoys?"
"Next week's project," William said. "Right after we figure out how to make spaghetti pie."
Drudgery
"Lizzie, come out here and set the table," Luke yelled, stirring the contents of the pot before him with a large spoon in his right hand. He scrutinized the textbook he held in his left and walked out into the living room when it became apparent that Liz wasn't interested in responding to him. Liz was slumped on the couch, sullenly watching the evening news. "Come on, Lizzie, food's almost ready and dad'll be home in a minute, give me a hand, will you?"
Liz groaned. "Keep your panties on, Betty Crocker."
"Now, Liz.”
"I'm not eating here, anyway, I don't know why you're cooking for twenty people," Liz said.
"Where do you think you're going?" Luke queried, eyebrow raised. "You're grounded, remember?"
Liz laughed. "God, you really think I'm going to stay home because you grounded me?" she asked. "You really are delusional."
Luke shrugged. "Fine, don't listen to me. Dad'll take one look at your report card and either way, you're going to be cooling your heels in your bedroom tonight. Table, now."
Liz followed Luke, pulling dinner plates from the cabinet and making her way to the table. "I don't know when Dad is finally going to break it to you, Lucas," she muttered as she slammed a plate onto the table. "But you are not my mother."
Luke slid a pan full of sliced Italian bread into the broiler compartment in the stove. "How the hell did you manage to get an 'F' in Phys. Ed., anyway?" Luke peeked in the top door of the oven, checking the status of the food there.
Liz let a handful of silverware clatter loudly to the tabletop. "Not your concern," she said.
Luke stirred the sauce in the large pot before him. "And the 'F' in Home Ec.? Button sewing and brownie making fly right over your head?"
Liz slammed a pair of drinking glasses down onto the table, not responding.
"Son of a bitch!" Luke spun around to face Liz. "Will you knock it the fuck off already?" he bellowed, just as he noticed William leaning in the doorframe, silently observing his bickering offspring. Luke swallowed hard and turned silently back to the stove.
"Quite the classy meal-time conversation you two have going," William said.
Liz smiled cheerfully at William and walked over to give him a peck on the cheek.
"Hi Daddy," she said." "Taylor Doose said that he's going to fine Luke for public indecency if he opens his mouth around him again."
William fixed a steely gaze upon his only daughter. "Two 'F's?"
"Three," Luke shot over his shoulder. "Three 'D's, too."
"Go get your report card, Lizzie." William groaned. Liz shot Luke an icy glare and went to retrieve the problematic document. He looked at Luke who was preoccupied with a handful of fettuccini noodles. "Where's yours?"
Luke nodded absentmindedly toward the shelf by William's head. William retrieved the report card, and reviewed Luke's grades. "Pretty damn good," he muttered. "You really turned it around this year, good deal." Luke shot William a crooked grin.
Liz stomped back into the kitchen and thrust her report card into her father's hand. William opened up the document and frowned as he scanned the page.
"Liz, for Christ's sake, are you even trying?"
Liz stared sulkily at her shoes, not replying.
Luke turned off the burners on the stove. "Would help if she ever showed up to any of her classes," he said.
Liz whipped around to face Luke. "Butt out, jerk, this isn't any of your business."
He walked over to Liz, towering over her as he intensified his lecture. "What am I supposed to do, sit back and ignore the fact that your entire high school career consists of smoking in the girl's bathroom and hanging out under the bleachers with the stoners?"
Liz stared at Luke, red with anger. "You know what? Rachel really needs to unclench and start putting out. If you don't get laid soon, your head is going to explode," she said.
"Sorry, the only sure bets at Stars Hollow High are you and Crazy Carrie, and I don't think I'm going to go down either of those roads any time soon," he said.
"Asshole.”
"Slut.”
"Enough!" William shouted, pounding his fist emphatically on the wall. Liz and Luke clamped their mouths shut and stared at their father.
"Liz, go to your room, Luke, cease and desist with the gutter talk, unless you want the business end of my belt.” Liz stomped out of the kitchen, but instead of going to her room, she grabbed her jacket and ran out through the front door. William watched in amazement. "That went well.”
Luke sighed. "Hungry?" he asked, grabbing the pot of noodles and pouring out the boiling water.
William picked up a plate and walked over to Luke, allowing his son to dish out the chow.
Luke filled his own plate and followed his father to the table. Both ate their meals in silence.
"Gotta lighten up on her, Lucas," William finally said.
Luke looked up sharply. "Lighten up on her? If we lighten up on her any more, the spazz is going to float off the face of the earth.”
"It's rough for her," William said. "She's growing up without a mother, she lives on the fringes of our little boys' club, and she just hasn't found her place yet.”
Luke played with the remains of his meal. "It's rough for everyone," he said. "Neither one of us ended up turning to a life of crime because Mom died, why should we let Liz do it?"
William laughed dryly. "You have to admit, things are a little different for Liz. I'm pretty sure no one else in school gets grounded by their brother on a regular basis."
Luke shrugged. He didn't see his father’s point.
William continued, "You aren't so easy to keep on the straight and narrow yourself, kid. Had to practically beat you to get you to start taking school seriously, and I've about run out of ways to get you to knock it off with the swears, already."
"Sorry.”
William wrinkled his nose. "Is something burning?"
"Shit!" Luke hollered and leapt to his feet. He ran over to the stove, grabbed a potholder, and yanked the pan of blackened bread out of the broiler.
"Shit!" he yelped again, the heat coming right through the potholder and burning his fingers as he dumped the bread into the garbage. "Crap." He flung the offending pan into the sink and jammed his burnt fingers into his mouth.
William shook his head in amused defeat. "Language, Luke.”
"Damn it, I said I was sorry.”
William laughed. "You're hopeless. How much is that fine Taylor was threatening you with? I'll have to start saving up now, I guess." Silently, Luke started to clean up the mess he had made. "Leave it," William said. "We'll clean up later."
Luke nodded. The pair made their way to the living room and William slumped into his chair while Luke stood in the middle of the room, contemplating his father.
"What's up?"
"Can I talk to you about something?" Luke asked warily.
"Sure," William agreed, sitting up a little.
Luke left the room for a moment, and returned with some papers in his hand. "Can you look at these?" William took the papers and pulled out his reading glasses. Luke paced as he waited for a reaction.
William grunted. "College? You're still a junior. You're looking at admissions forms now?"
"I figured I'd better talk to you, see if it was even, you know, an option?"
William ran his hand through his hair. "Money is pretty... tight around here, you know."
"I know.”
"Why these schools?" William asked, noting that most of the packets were from out of state colleges.
"Scholarship programs," Luke explained.
"Track?"
"Some," Luke said. "Mostly baseball."
William nodded. "You've got a great arm. I think you have a shot," he said.
Luke grinned shyly. "So you think I should go for it?"
"Yeah, kid, you should go for it. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, but if you and your coach think you can pull this off, I'd be an idiot to shit on the idea."
"Watch the swears," Luke said.
"This sudden interest in spreading your wings have anything to do with Miss Rachel?" William asked, a smile playing on his lips.
Luke ducked his head in embarrassment. "What do you mean?"
"That girl isn't long for this one-horse town," William said. "You thinking of going all modern and following her across the country after you two graduate?"
Luke shrugged. "I wouldn't say that."
William frowned at his son. "You'd better think about it," he said. "That girl is restless. Sweet, but restless. You're not a rolling stone, kid. You have roots." He raised his hand as Luke tried to interject. "I'm not saying anything against your relationship with her. I'm just warning you to keep your eyes open. You may be itching to fly the coop, but how far are you really willing to go?"
"I don't want to be stuck in Stars Hollow my entire life."
William nodded. "But eventually you're going to want to find a place to roost. Do you think Rachel will ever settle down?"
Luke stared at his father thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said.
William fidgeted, not wanting to upset his son. He knew the boy was already worried about Rachel's obvious wanderlust, but he also knew Luke was pretty well whipped when it came to the free-spirited girl. He followed Rachel around like a lovesick pup, and William was still rather surprised to find that his usually sarcastic, prickly son could be reduced to doing an imitation of a bowl of Jell-O by just a casual flip of the hair from this particular girl.
William had already broken up quite a few heavy make out sessions on the nights he worked late, and while he was glad to see that Luke seemed to be attentive and gentle with the girl, he was worried about how far Luke had allowed his passions to already take him. Luke was definitely deep in the throes of his first big love, and he didn't want to see the boy get hurt or screw up his chances to strike out on his own. William cleared his throat. "So how long have you two been dating now?"
"Year and a half next week," Luke said.
William smiled. "That's a lifetime in terms of high school romances. Liz has yet to make it to a whole month with her boyfriends."
"But it only takes one date for her to just make it with them," Luke shot back.
William flinched. "I'm having enough issues trying to rein the girl in. Let me have some plausible deniability here, kid."
"Not going to be able to fall back on plausible deniability when she gets herself knocked up," Luke growled. William gave his son a stern look and Luke wisely decided to stop bashing his troubled sister.
"What about you?" William asked, not really wanting to know.
"What do you mean?" Luke shifted from one foot to the other.
"You and Rachel," William said. "A year and a half. You want me to believe that after a year and a half you two are still just holding hands?"
Luke ducked his head in embarrassment.
William sighed. "Are you two... using, uh... protection?"
Luke stared at his shoes. "We're safe," he mumbled.
"You love her?" William asked, studying Luke's face.
Luke sat wearily on the couch. "Yeah.”
William nodded. "You treat her right, then, boy," he said. "You made a very grown-up decision to go down this path, you need to man up and do right by her. You're responsible for the consequences of your choices, no matter how unpleasant they may ultimately turn out to be."
Luke looked quizzically at his father. "Not holding out much hope for us, are you
"Just being realistic," William said. "First loves can be a bitch."
"Maybe she's it for me.”
"If she turns out to be, you're a lucky guy," William said. "I just don't want to see you get your heart broken if things don't work out."
"Don't worry about it," Luke assured his father. "I've got it all worked out. I'm going to get a scholarship, go to college, Rachel's got her heart set on some artsy fartsy school in Chicago, and she'll get in, you've seen her photographs, she's got talent. We'll graduate, get married, and find a middle ground so she can do her thing, and I can get a decent job. We've talked about it already, we have it planned out. I'll get some kind of business degree, so I can help you get the store running the way it should be, and you could retire. I'll get a good job so I can send you money so you don't have to worry about stupid shit like clipping coupons and watching the thermostat anymore. I've got your back, Dad, that's why I'm going to college. I'm not going to just up and leave, I'm going to make sure you'll be okay, too. If I stay here, I can't do that. I don't want to spend my life rotting in this town. I'm not a hardware store kind of guy. We spent our lives scrimping and scraping to just barely get by, I want more than that. I want you to have more than that, and if I do this, I can do it all. You'll see, it's all going to work out great." Luke took a deep breath, winded from his sudden rant.
William blinked. He was alternately stunned by the boy's naiveté, and awed by his son's intentions. William knew that a lot of Luke's plans were pipe dreams, but the mere fact that Luke was so intent on taking care of everyone in his life was enough to break his heart. He couldn't figure out how he could have gone so wrong with his rebellious daughter, unable to get her to calm down, straighten up, or to demonstrate even a modicum of responsibility or concern for anyone other herself, but still end up with such an incredible, upstanding son. Luke had his rebellious stage in his early teens, complete with skateboards, an occasional pilfered cigarette, juvenile stunts involving toilet paper , eggs, and soap, and a really ugly incident with six pack of beer, but Luke had learned quickly enough that he preferred a life that didn't include regular appointments between his ass and William's belt, and had mellowed out considerably in the last couple of years. Liz however, William fretted, had a long way to go before she ever got her head on straight.
William stood up and walked over to Luke, giving the boy a pat on the head as he made his way to the kitchen. "I'll do the dishes tonight, you get upstairs and finish studying," William said over his shoulder. Luke nodded, grabbed his books and made his way toward his bedroom.
William watched Luke climb the stairs and sighed. He hoped Luke could find a way to make his dreams come true, but William was a realist. All it took was one bad break in life, and Luke's house of cards would collapse on itself. William could only hope that Luke had strength enough to weather the storms that may come his way. He had a feeling that the biggest storm would be Rachel breaking his son's heart. She was a good girl, but the young couple were both only sixteen, and William knew that hearts are fickle at that age. He was worried that Rachel's aspirations would be the undoing of their relationship. William shook his head, hoping for Luke's sake that he was wrong.
The kid deserved a break, William knew. Luke graduated from high school in only a year. All he needed was one more year free of any major road bumps. If William could keep the store running, keep Liz in check, keep the bills paid, keep everybody healthy for just one more year, he could send his boy out into the world, free to make the most of his potential. Hell, the way the kid pitched, he could go pro easily, William thought proudly. Luke had essentially given up his childhood to try and fill the void left by his mother's passing. It was time for him to get his life back, and William was going to do everything in his power to make sure he could pay his boy back for everything he had ever done for him.
All he needed was one more year of smooth sailing. William nodded confidently to himself. It wasn't such a tall order, was it? He could make this happen for Luke, he was sure of it.
Vexation
William poked his head into his office. "Hey Luke, did you put those router bits that Buddy wanted on the last order?"
Luke nodded distractedly. "Yeah," he muttered. "They should be in end of next week."
"How are the numbers crunching this month?" William asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Luke turned to face his father, brow furrowed. "Looks like we made eight bucks," he grumbled.
William sighed. "Well, I guess it's better than losing eight bucks this month," he rationalized.
Luke slid the calculator away and picked up his pencil to make a notation in William's logbook. "We should take the profits and head to Atlantic City," he said dryly. "Maybe we'll have a lucky streak and be able to turn it into at least twenty bucks."
William chuckled. "Think big, boy, we could turn it into forty dollars, easy."
Luke laughed. He turned back to the desk, but lost his grip on his pencil. Luke groaned as it clattered to the floor. Luke started to lean forward to pick the pencil up, but stopped short as a bolt of pain shot through his right arm.
William walked quickly over to Luke. "I'll get it, kid," he said.
Luke glared at the pencil as William handed it to him. "I'm not getting any better with the left-handed stuff," Luke complained.
William nodded sympathetically. "You know what the doctor said, though, absolutely no movement with that right arm for at least another month."
Luke scowled silently at the arm sling he was wearing. William felt a wave of sympathy as he regarded the miserable expression on his son's face. Luke had been in a foul mood for weeks, and William couldn't blame him one bit. Two days after Luke had wowed scouts from Pepperdine, Southern Cal, and Oregon State with a deadly 97 mile per hour fastball, he blew out his rotator cuff in practice. The recruiters suddenly disappeared, the tear that x-rays showed was severe enough to warrant surgery on Luke's shoulder, and Luke was benched for remainder of his last season, giving him plenty of time to allow the awareness that he wasn't going to college, that he wasn't ever going to go pro, and that he wasn't leaving Stars Hollow sink in. The team had choked without Luke's ability to prevent most opposing batters from ever even making it to first base, and had quickly fallen out of contention for anything other than a "We Can Tie Our Shoelaces On Our Own" honorable mention.
William walked over to the small fridge he kept in his office while Luke struggled to finish up the bookkeeping with his left hand. He grabbed a couple of beers, popped the tops and walked back to Luke. Luke looked up and cocked an eyebrow suspiciously at the beer his father was offering him.
"Is this a trick?" Luke asked warily.
William snorted. "Just take it, already, you've earned a break."
Luke smiled and took the can from his father, taking a swig of the cold brew.
"So let me get this straight, you find my empties, I get my ass kicked, but I sort out your books, and we're drinking buddies. No wonder Liz and I are total basket cases," Luke grinned.
William shook his head and took a long drink from his can. "Liz is a basket case because she's certifiable. You're a basket case because you, my boy, have legendarily rotten luck. My piss poor parenting skills are only superficial influences in your mutual weirdness. I blame your mother's gene pool for most of the problems."
"I think Mom would take offense to that," Luke replied.
"Your mother would drag me to Louie's and just point at him as her defense of her DNA," William grunted.
"It would be a rock-solid argument, and you know it," Luke chuckled.
William shrugged. "Every family has its fair share of turds," he laughed.
"Louie and Liz, two turds in a toilet," Luke guffawed.
"Stop it," William growled, trying not to laugh. "Lizzie isn't a turd, she's just a late bloomer, and a victim of her surroundings. Too much testosterone under one roof. She won't have a fighting chance until she gets out into the real world and realizes how incompetent you and I were at playing joint heads-of-household. One day she'll learn that socks don't get washed in dishwashers, that televisions show things other than baseball games, and that jumper cables are not appropriate gifts for girls, especially girls who don't own a car."
Luke grunted. "She's still breathing isn't she? We weren't sucky enough to kill her, at least."
"Need I remind you that we poisoned her entire kindergarten class with the chicken salad we sent for her first school party?" William pointed out.
"We worked out the kinks," Luke noted.
"We also sent her to school with the chicken pox." William remembered. "We took out half the town because we didn't think that red spots could mean something bad. I got called into the principal's office because I started an epidemic, she was so worked up, I thought I was going to either get arrested, or have Child Protective Services knocking on our door."
Luke shrugged. "We improved overall attendance in the long run. Everyone got the chicken pox at once, instead of a couple kids every year. We did 'em a favor."
William sighed and sank down into the nearest chair. "She needed her mother. She lost out on a lot not having Gracie around."
Luke remained silent, tapping his pencil distractedly on the edge of the desk.
William sized Luke up. "You missed out, too. She would have done better by you than I did. She wouldn't have let you be in the position of having to hinge any hope of higher education on your cleats, like I let happen. She would have had you turning down Ivy League schools left and right. Gracie'd clobber me if she saw us right now," he said sadly.
Luke sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong. I screwed this up on my own. I pushed too hard, showed off too much, and I blew it all on my own. Coach kept telling me to ease up, and I kept pushing. I got cocky, and now all I have a busted up shoulder to show for it. It's my fault, not yours."
William eyed Luke warily. "Rachel settle on a school yet?" he asked, cringing as he remembered Rachel wasn't a topic that was going to cheer up the sullen boy.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Looks like it’s going to be wagons west," he grouched.
William sighed. "She's really going to California?"
"Yup," Luke grunted. He slouched back in his chair, wincing at the pain in his arm as he changed positions.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," William offered weakly.
Luke snorted. "Well, being present and accounted for isn't working, might as well try absence for a while."
"Still fighting?" William pressed.
Luke nodded.
"Why now?" William asked.
"Pick a reason. If I'm not being unsupportive, I'm being a drag. If I'm not being suffocating, I'm being distant. Can't seem to win with her, lately," Luke sighed.
"Maybe you two just need a breather," William suggested. "It's a stressful time for everyone. You feel like crap, you both have finals coming up to deal with, the school year is soon over, and you've both got to figure out your futures. It's a lot to deal with on top of trying to make a relationship work."
Luke shrugged miserably. "I think we're already taking a breather, Rachel just forgot to ask if I was okay with it."
"You think you're going to break up?" William asked, noting the pained expression on Luke's face.
Luke nodded. "We pretty much already are, she just hasn't given the final word yet. Rachel doesn't like to make the tough decisions, she just likes to leave."
William sighed. "Want another beer?"
Luke looked at his father. "That and a sledgehammer upside my head. That ought to do the trick."
William shook his head as he stood up. "Sorry, I don't have any sledgehammers in stock. I only made eight dollars this month and that won't even cover shipping."
Luke laughed dryly. "Well, one thing's for sure," he grunted.
"What's that?" William asked as he retrieved two more cans of beer.
"Can't get any worse than this," Luke stated.
William sat down next to Luke again and opened the beers, sliding one toward Luke.
Luke regarded his father curiously.
"What?" William asked.
"That was your cue to agree with me," Luke explained.
William nodded thoughtfully, staring out the window.
"Uh-oh," Luke sighed.
"Yeah," William agreed.
"Should I polish off this beer before I ask what's up now?" Luke asked warily as William raised his beer as a sign to drink up.
Luke and William both chugged their beers until their respective cans were empty.
Luke belched loudly, "Soo..." he encouraged his father.
"Soo..." William stalled, letting out a belch of his own.
"Dad," Luke warned.
William let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, as long as we're crawling around at rock bottom here, I guess I should tell you I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, had some routine tests done."
"And?" Luke asked, concern written on his face.
"And, there were some things the doctor didn't like, so I went back," William explained.
"Christ, Dad, what?" Luke asked, his voice going up an octave.
William played absent-mindedly with the calculator on the desk, avoiding Luke's gaze.
"They sort of found a mass," William explained quietly.
"A mass? A mass of what?" Luke hissed frantically.
"I had a biopsy done. I have a tumor," William stated more calmly than he actually felt.
"Biopsy," Luke parroted. "Tumor."
William nodded, waiting for Luke to catch up.
Luke cleared his throat loudly. "Tumor. Is it...do you...cancer?" Luke grasped desperately for words.
William gritted his teeth. "It's malignant," he whispered.
"Malignant," Luke repeated, eyes wide. His face was ashen.
"Cancer," William explained.
"Cancer," Luke whispered back.
The Danes men sat quietly, both lost in their own thoughts.
"What's going on in there?" William asked, breaking the heavy silence by leaning over and giving Luke a light slap on the back of his head..
Luke looked at his father, a grim expression on his face. "Fuck," he stated simply.
"Fuck, indeed," William agreed.
Reversal
"So what do you think, Lucas, any hope for survival?" Mia asked.
Luke shook his head. "It's not looking too great, Mia, I don't think there's many other options at this point."
Mia sighed. "Are you sure?"
Luke scrunched up his nose at the mess before him. "Yeah, you're pretty much S.O.L. if you think you can get out of this without totally replacing them."
Mia groaned. "Do you have any idea how much money I put into having this roof replaced last spring? I'm not going to be able to even consider replacing windows until after the summer rush."
Luke contemplated the hole in the wall that, until recently, housed the window that was leaning against the bed. "Listen," Luke offered. "I can't do a lot of work all at once, with the store and all, but I can try to get in here and replace these one by one. It'll save you a crapload of money, and you only need to pay for the actual supplies, but it'll take me a while. I could do it a lot faster if there wasn't so much water damage here around the frame. That rotten wood is going to have to be pulled out and replaced. It'll take me a whole day at a time just to do that. But, if you're patient, I can do it," he stated with a sigh.
"Do I need to still replace the windows then?" Mia asked hopefully.
Luke narrowed his eyes at Mia. "Yesss," he said, trying to be patient. "Those windows are why you have a big hole in your wall right now, they're crap."
"All right," Mia sighed. "But I'm going to give you something for the work."
Luke raised his hand. "No way, I'm not charging you for the work. You just supply the materials, that's all."
"Lucas," Mia argued. "You're getting something in return for helping me out. I can imagine that you doing this for me with save me hundreds of dollars when all is said and done. You take the money, and help out Bill, okay?"
Luke fingered the screwdriver he was holding and nodded, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He hated taking handouts, but money was tight, and William's health insurance wasn't making a good enough dent in the medical bills that were piling up at home. "You going to Liz's graduation tomorrow?" he asked, changing the subject.
Mia rubbed Luke's arm, knowing how uncomfortable he was discussing anything having to do with his father's lengthy illness. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," she exclaimed.
"Yeah," Luke said, rolling his eyes. "It ought to be a hoot."
"Oh, stop it, Lucas," Mia laughed. "She finally made it, you should be at least a little proud of the fact that she's getting out with a diploma, and not an 'Expelled' slip."
"Who would have thunk it?" Luke laughed.
"I'll leave you to your work, Lucas, and thank you, once again you've come through for me," Mia praised, giving Luke a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to make her way back to the front desk of the Independence Inn.
Luke worked the window back into the frame, rigging up temporary protection from the elements until he could return with everything he needed to make the proper repairs. He got home just as the sun was beginning to set over Stars Hollow.
"Dad?" Luke hollered as he made his way into the living room.
"Hey, kid," William greeted Luke.
Luke looked his father over. He had lost at least 30 pounds over the last year alone, and looked old and frail, sitting in his beat up armchair.
William grunted. "Still alive," he pointed out.
Luke grimaced. "Not funny," he replied. "Where's Liz?"
"Upstairs," William said, eyes returning to the television set.
Luke craned his neck in the direction of the kitchen and sighed. "I gotta check on something, I'll be down in a second," he told his father as he climbed the stairs.
Luke knocked on Liz's bedroom door and yelled her name, trying to be heard over the music thumping away behind the door.
"Lizzie!" Luke shouted, pounding now on the door. Still, no answer. Luke finally opened the door a crack and yelled into the room. "What the hell, are you deaf?"
Liz shut the stereo off and walked to her door. "What's wrong with you," she grumbled. "Don't you knock?"
"What do you think I've been doing for five minutes?" Luke growled.
Liz shrugged. "So what do you want?"
"What's for dinner?" Luke asked pointedly.
Liz looked at Luke, confused. "I don't know, what are you making?"
Luke kicked the door in disgust. "Christ, can't you do anything?" he muttered.
"What?" Liz asked defensively.
"I've been working all day, Dad's still not up to doing much of anything, and you couldn't even be bothered with throwing a frozen pizza in the oven?" Luke asked in amazement.
"You're the Betty Crocker around here, not me," Liz stated, flopping back onto her bed, dismissing Luke with a wave of her hand.
"Unbelievable," Luke muttered stomping back down the stairs and toward the kitchen. Luke grabbed some random vegetables out of the refrigerator, and pulled some chicken breasts out of the freezer. He filled up a large pot with hot tap water and threw the chicken in, willing the birds to defrost quickly.
William shuffled into the kitchen to find Luke bent over the counter, head buried in his arms. "You cooking?" he asked, ignoring the obvious clues that hinted to Luke's clear intention to indeed cook.
Luke yawned. "Yes," he sighed into his arm.
William pulled a chair back from the kitchen table and sat down. "What are you making?" he asked conversationally.
Luke remained slumped over the counter. "I have no idea," he groaned.
"I'm sorry," William apologized.
Luke raised his head and looked over his shoulder at his father. "For what?"
William shrugged wearily. "For all of it," he said quietly.
"Nothing to apologize for," Luke grunted.
"You're busting your ass here, Luke," William reminded him. "You're doing all the work, and I can't even get my ass in gear long enough to throw together a simple meal."
Luke shook his head. "You're sick. You're not supposed to be doing anything other than getting well. It would be nice if Liz would get HER ass in gear and contribute around here."
"She's too wrapped up in that new boyfriend of hers to worry about us old farts," William responded.
Luke rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.
William raised his hands in protest. "Not one more 'my sister is easy' comment, I may not be able to chase you down with the belt anymore, but I can find ways to make your life a living hell," he said reproachfully. Luke pulled the chicken out of the pot of water, and decided it was as close to defrosted as it was ever going to be.
"Cross your fingers," Luke shot over his shoulder at his father. "I'm going to try to put something edible together here."
William laughed. "You're too hard on yourself. You've become quite the gourmet over the years. You're getting a reputation around this town. Last time Maize and Buddy dropped by, they ate some of that pie you made, and both of them thought you should go into business.
Luke chuckled as he chopped up some vegetables. "Yeah, why don't I turn the hardware store into a restaurant? Call it 'Luke's Bistro', and serve my best dishes. I'll make a mint," he joked. Luke eyed the fruit bowl for a moment, and grabbed a couple of apples, chopping them up as well. He tossed a hunk of the fruit into his mouth, and walked a slice over to his father.
William looked at the fruit warily. "Apples?" he queried, taking a bite, and watching Luke mix the fruit and vegetables together and dump them into a large bowl.
Luke shrugged. "It's an experiment," he admitted. "If I'm right, the apple won't be obvious, they'll just add an interesting vibe to the crap I have here." Luke sliced the chicken into strips and flung them into the frying pan.
"Don't cook too much, I'm still lucky if I can get three bites of food in me before I fill up," William warned.
Luke looked at his father. "You need to eat more, get your strength up."
"I'm trying," William argued.
"Try harder," Luke scolded, attacking his impromptu stir-fry with a spatula.
"Yes sir," William retorted. "Crap," he muttered.
"What?" Luke asked, concerned.
"I have to use the...uh, restroom," William replied, looking embarrassed.
"Need a hand getting there?" Luke asked, turning the flame under their dinner down.
"Yeah," William groaned. "I used up my excess energy to wobble out here."
Luke plastered a smile on his face and walked over to the table, leaning over to help his father to his feet. He winced as he felt his father tremble from the effort of standing. "Ready, Pop?" Luke asked as he wrapped his arm around William, clutching his hand for added support.
"I think so," William said, puffing already from the effort of getting to his feet.
"Don't worry, I got your back," Luke said quietly, as he steered his father toward their destination.
"Yeah, I noticed," William said gratefully.
Two hours later, Luke flopped onto the couch, exhausted. He had gotten his father to bed, the kitchen was cleaned up, the living room was now back to an almost presentable level of disarray, and Luke was beat. He was almost asleep when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Luke looked up to see Liz standing on their stairs, a bag in her hand.
"What are you up to?" Luke asked suspiciously.
"Just taking some stuff out to my car," Liz grumbled, annoyed that she had been caught.
Luke sat up and fixed his gaze on the bag Liz was trying to shove behind her.
"What stuff?" he asked, trying to figure out what Liz was up to.
Liz clenched her teeth. "As usual, none of your business," she seethed.
Luke stood up, and walked to the front door, blocking Liz's escape route.
"Make it my business," Luke said tersely.
Liz sighed. "It's my clothing, okay?"
Luke looked at Liz quizzically. "Where are you taking your clothes?"
Liz straightened herself up to her full height, jutting out her chin. "To Jimmy's"
Luke groaned. That loser again. "And why are you doing that? Oh my God, you aren't moving in with that moron are you?" Luke asked, suddenly realizing what Liz was up to.
"We're going to New York actually, we're leaving right after graduation," Liz declared.
"No, you're not!" Luke exclaimed, caught completely off guard by his sister's intentions. "What about Dad? Are you actually just going to bail on us? Did you even tell him you wanted to leave? Or were you just going to let him figure it out on his own, when you suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet? Jesus Christ, you're the most selfish jerk I've ever met in my life, Lizzie. Dad's sick, the store is going under, and we can barely keep the roof over our heads as it is, and you're just going to go run off to New York? What's your big plan once you get there? Join the cast of 'Cats'? Go all fruity and bohemian and live in a cardboard box in Greenwich Village? Sell fake Rolexes in Times Square? What's Jimmy's big plan here, huh? Does he have a job lined up? Is he going to support you with his promising career of Fry-Boy at McDonald's? Is that what you want? Well, fine, go, rot in New York. I don't give a shit anymore. You go worry about yourself, it's the only thing you know how to do anyway. I'll stay here and take care of Dad, and you go do whatever the hell you want to do. Hey, maybe I'll send you a postcard if he doesn't make it, how about that? Just don't come crawling back here when it all blows up in your face, okay?" Luke yelled, gasping for air.
Liz stared at Luke, not very affected by his impassioned rant. "Are you done, now?" She asked wearily.
"Yes, I'm done now, I'm done with you, you asshole," Luke seethed. "Why don't you just leave now? Get it over with, get the hell out of here. Want the twenty five dollars Dad scraped together for your graduation card? Don't want you to run out of gas on your way to New York."
Liz shrugged. "Fine, I'll go then. What are you going to tell Dad?"
"I don't know, Liz, what the fuck should I tell him?" Luke asked bitterly.
Liz laughed humorlessly as she picked up her bag and opened the door. "Well, whatever you do, don't tell him I'm pregnant, because I'm pretty sure he won't be happy to find out that he's going to be a Grandpa so soon. See ya, Luke, drop me a line if you ever get that two by four you have wedged up your ass surgically removed." Liz smiled triumphantly at the shocked expression on Luke's face, and she walked out through the door, slamming it behind her dramatically.
Luke could only stare at the door, unable to process what had just transpired. He turned slowly and walked to the kitchen. Luke looked around the room distractedly, and went to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer. He sat down at the table, and drank the beer slowly, his mind churning, trying to figure out how to break Liz's news to his father. Luke groaned. He knew William wasn't going to be as upset about the pregnancy as he would about the fact that Liz had just up and left. William was nearly obsessive in his defense of his youngest child. Luke and William were constantly butting heads over Liz's approach to life, and one of William's worst shortcomings was his inability to accept how badly Liz had strayed. He let his guilt over his lack of being able to relate to his daughter cloud his judgment, and Luke was always on the verge of tearing his hair out over William's habit of excusing Liz's bad behavior as a symptom of growing up without a mother. Luke could only wonder what excuse his father was going to make for Liz now. In any case, Luke was now going to have to take on even more responsibility now that Liz was cutting out on them. Liz didn't bring much to the table in terms of helping out, but she at least could be wheedled into taking on a few shifts a week at the hardware store to allow Luke time to take William to the oncologist, or to go grocery shopping. Now Luke didn't even have that to count on. Luke sighed in defeat as he grabbed his father's box of pills, and began counting out the next day's dosages. He sighed again as he noticed that he was going to have to get four more bottles refilled tomorrow at some point. Luke grabbed a pen and notepad and jotted down the medications he needed to pick up. Luke glanced over at the bread box and realized there were only a couple of slices left in the bag behind the glass.
"Crap," Luke muttered as he flipped the page and started a grocery list. He wandered around the kitchen, noting all the food they needed to stock up on. Luke hadn't been to the grocery in two weeks, so supplies were low. As Luke finished up the grocery list, he grabbed the checkbook that was lying on the top of the breadbox, and flipped it open to see how much money they had to play with. Luke cursed silently under his breath, remembering that the checkbook hadn't been balanced since the last time he had gone to the store, so Luke grabbed a calculator, and set about balancing out the numbers. Luke finally got the checkbook up to date, stared at the final tally for a while, then grabbed the shopping list again, editing out the nonessentials so that he didn't go over the limit tomorrow. Luke threw the pen down at last and wearily scrubbed his face with his hands. He looked up at the clock on the wall and gasped as he saw it was almost 2:00 in the morning. He had to be at the store by 5:00 a.m. Luke felt a knot form in his gut, as he switched off the lights. He couldn't possibly make it on two hours sleep, there was just no way. Luke curled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes as hard as he could. He sat back down at the table, trying to choke back the near panic he felt inside.
"I can't do it," he whispered to himself, feeling the sting of tears of frustration trying to form in his eyes. Luke rubbed his eyes again, more fiercely this time, and buried his face in his hands. "Too much," he moaned as the tears finally won the battle Luke was waging to keep his emotions in check. "Too fucking much," he said and laid his head on the table, sobbing quietly in the darkness.
Reunion
Luke walked into the kitchen, eyes blazing. Maizie looked up from the sinkful of dishes she was trying to wash. "Another bust?" She asked, shooting Luke a sympathetic smile.
Luke shook his head, frustrated. "I've run out of ideas," he sighed.
"Did you try mashed potatoes?" Maizie offered hopefully.
Luke grimaced. "If I make mashed potatoes, he'll want applesauce. If I bring back the applesauce, he'll want yogurt. If I bring him some yogurt, he'll want a drink. Doesn't matter what I bring, he wants something different."
"What did he want instead of the applesauce?" Maizie asked, glancing at the bowl Luke was sticking back into the refrigerator.
Luke banged his head into the refrigerator to emphasize his current frustration. "Tacos," he groaned.
Maizie stifled a giggle. "Oh, dear," she smirked.
Luke leaned against the refrigerator, chuckling in defeat.
"It's the pills talking, you know that, right?" Maizie asked, grabbing a dishtowel off the kitchen table.
Luke nodded. "I know, I just didn't realize that morphine could be...I don't know, so mind numbingly irritating?"
"Why don't you go out tonight?" Maizie suggested. "Call that friend of yours, what's her name? Annie?"
"Anna," Luke corrected.
"How are things going with her?" Maizie queried.
Luke shrugged. "Okay, I guess, don't see her very often, she's nice enough, but I guess I don't see anything really long term happening there," he explained.
"No zing, huh?" Maizie asked.
Luke arched his eyebrow at Maizie.
"I'm just saying, you're not very subtle when you get bit by the love bug, Lucas," Maizie defended herself. "You see a girl that makes your heart go ping, and it's just obvious, that's all I meant by saying that. When you saw Rachel for the first time, you skated right into a tree and broke your nose. You're easily distracted by feminine wiles."
Luke groaned, hating to be subjected to a lecture about women by this particular woman. Once Maizie sunk her teeth into a topic, like Luke's love life, she wasn't letting go without a fight.
"I don't have TIME to get distracted by Anna's feminine...whatevers. We hang out occasionally, no big deal. She understands that I have to put Dad first, and she tolerates my inconsistent dating habits because of that. I appreciate her for understanding what's going on here," Luke tried to explain.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry I brought it up," Maizie sighed, backing down. "I just don't want to see you end up like your Uncle Louie, more apt to moon a woman who's pissed him off than offer her flowers."
Luke's face contorted with disgust. "I may be bad, but I'm never going to be THAT bad," he promised.
Maizie and Luke looked up as the doorbell rang. "Buddy close up the hardware store early?" Luke asked
Maizie shook her head. "He didn't say he was going to Maybe if you open the door, instead of staring in its general direction, you'll solve the mystery of who's doing the ringing," she said laughingly.
"Shut up, lady," Luke grumbled as he walked to the front door. Luke swung the door open, and his jaw dropped at the sight before him.
"Heyyyy, big brother!" Liz squealed, throwing her arms around Luke.
Luke didn't return her embrace. "What the hell are you doing here, Liz?" he asked, not kindly.
Liz stepped away from Luke, giving him an appraising once-over with her eyes. "You look like shit," she noted.
"Thanks," Luke replied.
Luke looked over Liz's shoulder as someone else ascended the stairs to the porch. "Who's this?"
"Aw, you remember Jimmy, don't you?" Liz laughed, "Come in, Jimbo, come meet my big brother."
Luke crossed his arms and glared at the bum Liz had dragged home.
"Hey, Luke, nice to meet you," Jimmy said, extending his hand to Luke.
Luke only grunted and turned away, walking to the center of the living room.
"Don't worry about him, he's always uptight," Liz muttered to Jimmy.
"Close the door," Luke said tersely. "Can't afford to heat the neighborhood.
Luke regarded the bundle in Jimmy's left arm. "What's that?" he asked gruffly.
Liz reached out for Jimmy's load. A crumpled up blanket fell back to reveal a child, fast asleep, thumb jammed in its mouth.
"This is my boy, Luke, your nephew," Liz smiled, offering the child to Luke.
Luke stepped back. "No way, nuh uh. I don't do kids."
"Don't be a moron, Lucas," Liz groaned. "His name is Jess."
"Jess?" Luke asked warily.
"Yup, come on, hold your nephew." she pleaded.
Luke took another step back. "Nope. Gotta run some food up to Dad, anyway, I'll be back in a minute."
Luke stomped out to the kitchen and rolled his eyes at Maizie. "Do me a favor, keep an eye on the slacker, make sure he doesn't try to steal the television while I'm gone. Maizie nodded, and went out to the living room to stand guard for Luke, as he made his way upstairs with the bowl of applesauce.
"Hey, Pop," Luke whispered, trying to tell whether William was really sleeping, or just zonked out on medication.
William stirred. "Hey, kid," he grunted weakly.
"Got some applesauce for you, want to give it a whirl?" Luke asked.
William wrinkled his nose. "Guess I don't have many other options right now, do I?"
"Sorry," Luke apologized, "We're running low on variety when it comes to food that you don't puke up within 30 seconds of swallowing."
"Yeah," William agreed. "Sorry about the jeans, earlier, by the way."
Luke laughed softly. "Don't worry, the way Maizie tells it, you have a lot more puking to do on me before we're even for all the times I yakked on you as a baby."
William nodded. "You definitely had issues with the projectile vomiting."
"Want to try it on your own, or do you need a hand?" Luke asked.
William struggled to sit up. Luke set the bowl down and helped his father slide into an upright position.
"I'll give it a shot," William decided.
Luke set the bowl on a tray, and lowered the tray over William's lap. William shakily picked up the spoon, his arm spasming uncontrollably.
"Doing okay?" Luke asked.
William pushed his spoon around the bowl for a moment, and finally let it clatter down onto the tray. He looked at Luke sorrowfully. "I can't kid, I can't deal with food right now."
Luke sighed. "It's okay, I just wish you would eat. You've barely eaten a thing in two days."
"Not hungry," William sighed wearily and slouched back down into his bed. Luke set the tray aside and sat on the bed next to his father, watching him shake. Luke pulled a blanket up around William's shoulders, noting that his father was already fast asleep again. He sighed heavily, and stared out the window, shaking off the deja vu that overtook him as he observed the grey skies above. That shade of grey was all too familiar. His father was in another hospital bed, just like the one his mother had spent her final days in, and here he was yet again, watching someone he loved slip away, slowly and painfully.
Luke picked up a Hospice pamphlet he had laid on the nightstand, out of his father's sight. He opened up the booklet, his nightly ritual now including obsessively going over the checklist of signs that a terminally ill patient was near death. He mournfully reviewed the signs that William was already exhibiting, and gritted his teeth as he added loss of control of extremities to the list of things William was doing. William was incoherent most of the time, even though for some reason, he gained a little clarity in the evenings. Maybe medication wearing off, Luke supposed. Most of the time, William didn't even recognize Luke, and the loss of coherence was usually replaced with a surly attitude. William argued with everything Luke said or did, taking on the persona of a petulant child. Luke had to stay alert during the day, because his father would suddenly crawl out of bed, intent on making it to some unknown destination. He was amazingly quick when he got on his feet, and Luke was convinced one of these times, his father would make his break when Luke was distracted, and end up at the foot of the stairs with a broken neck.
Luke was at the point, though, that he almost hoped William would meet his end soon. He didn't want his father to die, but he knew if William had any real sense of how bad things were, he would want it to be over as well. Luke was tired of seeing his father writhe in pain, of hearing his once strong and intimidating dad begging for some long forgotten childhood toy, of watching William vomiting up blood. Two weeks ago Luke had to suck it up and tell the nurse that stopped by three times a week that he was finally ready to accept the fact that he needed to use adult diapers on his dad. The first time Luke had to bring out the damn things to use on his father, he ended up stumbling wildly out of the room, nearly knocking over Mia in the hallway as he fled toward the bathroom, alternately vomiting in the toilet and sobbing hysterically over the knowledge of how far gone his father already was.
"Hey, bro," Liz whispered. Luke shook his thoughts away as he felt his sister lean on his shoulder, throwing both arms around him. Neither spoke as they both quietly regarded their sleeping father. Luke turned his head slightly as he heard Liz snuffling quietly.
Liz buried her face into Luke's shoulder. "I couldn't stand to watch it," she whispered. I left you all alone to deal with it because all I could think was I couldn't watch him get sick and frail like Mom did," she cried quietly. Luke reached up and rubbed Liz's arm, letting her know he was listening.
Liz sighed and sat behind Luke, leaning back against his back. "I don't even really remember Mom," she said sadly. "I just remember that she was suddenly gone, and Dad was always sad, and you wouldn't even talk to me, and there was a hole in the ground, and all I knew was Mom was supposed to be in that hole. You know every time I dream about Mom, she's standing next to a big black hole in the ground? That always creeps me out when I wake up."
Luke shook his head slowly. "I didn't know that," he admitted, suddenly understanding why Liz was always acting like a spazz as a child. She was grieving just like Luke and William always had been, only she didn't even really know who or what she was grieving for.
"Does he hate me?" Liz asked, sniffing loudly.
"Nah," Luke assured her. "You could assassinate the president and Dad would still say you were just having a bad day. You're such a brat, the way you have him wrapped."
Liz laughed dryly. "You have got to be kidding me, the golden child is acting jealous? I always felt like the only way I could get Dad to stop worshipping at your most holy cleats for a minute and notice me was to knock over a liquor store."
"He would have noticed that," Luke agreed. "Christ, we're idiots."
Liz nodded, leaning her head back on Luke's shoulder. "Yeah, we are. Guess that makes us family, huh?"
Luke nodded and reached around behind him, pulling Liz's arm. Liz stood up, kissed Luke on the top of his head, and walked around to the other side of the bed and took William's hand. She looked at Luke sadly. "You're a good big brother, you know that?"
Luke shrugged. "I'm the only one you got."
Liz nodded. "No refunds, no exchanges."
They were silent for a while, watching William sleep, his breathing shallow. Liz sighed shakily, and lay down beside William, careful not to disturb him. She put her chin on his shoulder, tears escaping from her eyes. "Not going to be long now, is it?" she whispered, looking at Luke uncertainly.
Luke cleared his throat and clenched his teeth. "No," he rasped, feeling tears well up in his eyes as well.
Luke lay down on the other side of William.
Liz craned her neck and kissed William on the cheek. "It's okay if you have to go, Daddy, we'll be all right."
Luke nodded, feeling his throat tighten. "Yeah, Pop, we'll figure things out. If you gotta go, it's okay. You put up a good fight."
Liz took William's hand, and Luke reached over, linking his hand with theirs.
"We made one hell of a team, the three of us, didn't we?" Liz laughed tearfully. "Socks in the dishwasher and all?"
Luke smiled sadly as the tears flowed down his cheeks. "Yeah, we did. We just won't mention the sock thing to anyone."
Harbinger
Luke drove back to Stars Hollow, thinking over the last couple of days. It was December 1st, and he was still feeling a little grouchy, even after a weekend away at the old cabin. November 30th, the anniversary of William's death, was developing into a traditional day of utter depression for Luke. After seven years, he had pretty much gotten away from a sense of daily misery in terms of his father, but every November 30th dawned dismally for him. All the bad memories of William's illness came crashing back, always of course, with a hearty side dish of missing his mother as well. Luke was definitely still affected by his mother's death, but something about his father's passing left a sting that never quite went away.
In the days after the end of William's battle with cancer, Luke had felt completely alone, even though Liz, in a rare fit of helpfulness, was trying her best to take care of as many details in planning the funeral as possible. Luke had been pretty shell-shocked, and for the first time in Liz's life, she realized how much Luke and her father were a package deal, completely dependent upon one another for support. Watching Luke struggle with adjusting to life without their dad was like watching a recent amputee learn to adjust to the loss of a right arm. She realized that if things had somehow been reversed, and Luke had died, William would be struggling in exactly the same way. It made Liz feel simultaneously incredibly sad for her brother, while feeling a pang of jealousy at never having really been included in that dynamic.
As Luke drove, he thought back to the night following his father's funeral. He and Liz had opened their doors for their entire town after the burial, and Luke had numbly gone through the motions of accepting the sympathies of various friends and acquaintances, but he wasn't really present and accounted for, mentally. He and Liz had tried to clean up a little, but were quickly chased away by Maizie, Buddy, and Mia. Liz grabbed Luke's hand and dragged him up to her old bedroom, where he sat awkwardly on the edge of her bed, listening to her yammer on about spirits and heaven, and guardian angels. At some point, a bottle of Wild Turkey was brought out. At some point, Luke realized he had drank almost the entire bottle, while Liz worked on her own bottle of hooch. This realization hit him at the same time he realized that he and Liz were both flopped on the floor of her bedroom, listening to the album collection Liz had left behind. They talked and laughed drunkenly through Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Jethro Tull, and, for some weird reason, New Edition.
By the time Liz had loopily gone in search of their father's secret stash of alcohol, Luke was so drunk that he couldn't even sit up without leaning on the bed for support. Liz had squealed with glee as Luke had taken a few puffs off of the joint she had pulled out, and hours later, both were stunned to look out the window and see the sun rising over Stars Hollow to the strains of 'Inagaddadavida." Luke was still incredibly drunk, and gagging his way through his eighth cigarette that he had swiped from Liz's pack. Liz had eventually thrown in the towel and crawled into her bed and passed out. Luke had lost consciousness on the floor, with his head propped up on Liz's bean bag chair.
Luke shuddered at the memory of that night. He had developed quite the reputation of being as uptight and gruff as his father, and he couldn't imagine the amusement the people in town would experience if they had known he had unclenched enough to nearly drink himself into a coma and get high with his derelict sister. He'd never hear the end of it. One thing he knew for sure was that one night as a chain smoker was enough for him. He couldn't even stand the smell of cigarettes now. It always immediately reminded him of the nasty taste in his mouth as he fought off the hangover from hell that next day.
Luke drove into Stars Hollow, sighing as he resigned himself to getting back to business as usual. He drove past the garage he still rented to house the unfinished boat that William had been working on. Every year, Luke drove by the storage unit, figuring he'd stop off and look over the old thing, see if it could be salvaged. Luke knew he should finish up the job and sell the damn thing, but he didn't have the heart to get rid of it. His father had such plans for that boat, but the cancer had quickly put an end to those ideas. Luke slowed as he passed the garage, already knowing that this year, he wasn't even going to be able to stop. Some years he managed to get the truck into park, and sat for a while before putting it back in gear and speeding off. Two years ago, he had made it all the way up to the actual door before he backed away and took off. This year was definitely a no-stopper. Luke sighed. Maybe this summer he would be able to get motivated to finish up William's project.
Luke drove by the old house. Here, he did stop the truck for a while, gazing at the place. He sold the house about two years after his father's death. It was too much upkeep for one person, and the hardware store was pretty much going bust by that point. Liz had no interest in returning to Stars Hollow and keeping the house for herself, so Luke finally decided it had to go. He was still seeing Anna at the time, and she had helped him pack up everything and move out of the house, and into William's old office above the hardware store. She was even there when Luke closed the store and turned it into a business of his own. They had broken up shortly after that happened, however. Anna had decided that Luke was essentially too anti-social and too anti-happy for her. Luke couldn't blame her, he was pretty miserable to be around back then.
Luke drove back toward the hardware store and parked out in front. He looked over the place, a wave of pride washing over him. There was now a sign hanging below the old 'William's Hardware' sign that he refused to remove, to Taylor Doose's chagrin, that informed people looking for screwdrivers that they were actually about to enter 'Luke's Diner'. The place was packed. It had taken Luke a few years, but the diner was finally turning a profit. He was never going to be rolling in cash, but he did manage to make more than eight dollars a month most of the time. The first couple of years were a little rough. He was constantly having to tell people that the tools on the shelves weren't actually for sale, and yes, he really did serve food in a hardware store. The town had gotten used to Luke's stubborn refusal to make the fact that he was running a restaurant a little more obvious by taking his father's stuff off the walls, and now most everyone ate there religiously. His coffee alone was gaining legendary status, and word was spreading that Luke's was definitely the place to go for a good meal. Luke walked into the diner, ignoring the hush that fell over the gathered diners. By now, most everyone had made the connection that November 30th was Luke's official 'Dark Day', though not many people remembered exactly why that was anymore. The Danes family had always been well-known in town, but after Grace's death, they tended to live in their own little bubble, so nobody really associated that particular date with William's death.
Luke glared at the gathered crowd, and all wisely resumed eating and chattering. Luke grunted and walked behind the counter. "Caesar," he yelled.
"Yeah boss?" Caesar asked, poking his head out of the kitchen.
"I'll be down in a minute, you guys got it under control here?" Luke asked.
"Yeah, boss," Caesar nodded.
Luke carried his duffel bag and fishing gear up to the old office and showered up before returning to the diner to pitch in with the morning crowd. It wasn't long before he had to throw himself into his work and he expertly spun around the place, juggling orders, coffee, and plates piled high with various breakfast platters.
The morning was especially busy, and the typical lull that happened around 10 a.m. never came. The throngs of diners kept coming and coming, and even Luke was beginning to feel the stress as he realized he and his staff just weren't going to get a moment to catch their breath anytime soon. The breakfast rush evolved into the lunch rush. He didn't even bother looking up whenever he heard the bell over the door jangle, announcing yet another new customer. He would just yell over his shoulder at them, telling them to sit wherever they could find a place, or wait their turn for a table. Luke was so absorbed in his work that didn't notice the bell ring out once more as he maniacally tried to pile up the dishes left on a newly vacated table, rubbing a washcloth over the surface, and then sweeping up all the dishes into his arms. Luke spun around and rushed toward the kitchen, willing the gods to prevent him from dropping the pile.
"Oh my god!" Luke heard a voice shriek somewhere in front of him. Luke spun away defensively, somehow managing to keep hold of the dishes with his sudden evasive maneuvers. Luke completed the spin and faced the roadblock that he had nearly mowed down. He pressed his chin down into an empty coffee cup on top of his load when he felt the stack shift ominously.
"Sorry," he grunted through clenched teeth, all his effort focused on maintaining control.
"Not a problem, Evel Knievel, you put on a very entertaining sideshow," the girl laughed, nervously readjusting a knife that was on the verge of sliding off the pile that Luke was clutching.
"Table's clear if you want it," Luke said, regarding the girl curiously. Not a local. Dark curly hair, pale blue eyes, very pretty smile, and very...bouncy. She looked like she was about to vibrate into another plane of existence. She looked around the diner, but didn't move to take a seat anywhere. Luke sighed, and negotiated a path around the girl and took the dishes into the kitchen. Luke rushed back out and worked his way quickly down the counter, refilling all the coffee cups that were awaiting refreshment, and sped over to a table near the wall that was occupied by an impatient looking couple. Luke whipped out his order pad. "What can I get you?" he asked breathlessly.
"You can get me some coffee, stat," a voice behind Luke cut in.
Luke turned around to face the dark haired girl again. "Uh, okay, can you give me a second, here?" he asked, turning back to his waiting customers.
"I don't have a second, I need coffee, like ten minutes ago, " she pleaded.
Luke shot an apologetic glance at the customers, and turned to face the woman who was quickly getting on his nerves. "I will be with you in a minute, I have customers that were here first, and I need to get their orders in. Sit over at the counter and I'll get your coffee in a minute."
"Well, that's not very fair," she pouted.
"What's not?" he asked in exasperation.
"You went from coffee in a second to coffee in a minute. The next time I ask you for coffee, it could take you an hour. I can't wait that long. I need coffee now," she explained frantically.
"Oh my god, you're a lot of work, lady. Just keep your pants on." Luke turned back to his customers once more, breathing a sigh of relief as the irritating woman remained silent. He finally took down the orders, and rushed over to the kitchen, passing off the form to Caesar. Luke grabbed the plates of food Caesar slid toward him, and turned to deliver them to another table. Luke jerked to a stop, raising the dishes into the air as he found himself face to face with the blue eyed woman once again.
"Lady," he growled menacingly.
"What's your name?" she asked innocently.
"Pick up a menu, read the front, fill in the blanks yourself," he muttered, stepping around her and heading toward the awaiting diner patrons who were staring pointedly at their meals that were still in Luke's hands.
The woman picked up a menu propped up beside the cash register and perused the cover, setting it back down after a moment. Luke sped back to the cash register to ring up a customer who was standing with his bill held conspicuously in front of him. As Luke opened the register drawer, he saw the woman lean across the counter, practically lying down.
"So when's your birthday?" she questioned, pulling out a folded up newspaper Luke kept on the counter for the regulars.
"None of your business," Luke muttered, trying desperately to concentrate on the other customers.
"Spill, mister, or I'll stay here until you close," she shot back.
"November 4th," Luke said as he walked past her. The woman grabbed a pen off the cash register and bent over the newspaper, scribbling furiously. She ripped out a tiny portion of the page and walked over to Luke, reaching over as he wiped down a table, and stuffing the scrap into the pocket of his flannel shirt, then returned to her seat.
"Hey, Duke," she said, looking up at him coyly when he returned to ring up another diner.
"Luke," he muttered back.
"Duke, I'm dying here. I am about to expire right here on your counter. How much business will you get with a chalk outline on your counter top?" she wheezed dramatically, lying her head down again.
"You forgot to take some very important medication this morning, didn't you?" He grouched, handing the customer his change.
"Noooo," she sang. "It's just a very mean man named Duke won't give me what I need," she sighed theatrically.
Luke slammed the register drawer shut. "I think you've been hitting something a lot stiffer than just coffee," Luke snarked.
The woman gasped. "Dirty!" she exclaimed.
Luke felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head. "I didn't mean...I mean, I meant that you...uh, actually..." Luke stammered out, taken aback that the woman had taken his sarcastic comment as something sexual. He was thinking alcohol, for chrissakes.
"Duuuuuuuuuuuuuke," she moaned, banging her forehead into the counter.
"What am I supposed to do with this, anyway?" Luke asked, looking at the horoscope for Scorpio that she had scrawled over. The loopy handwriting stated 'You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away!!!'
"Keep it, put it in your wallet. It'll bring you luck," she promised, then she suddenly started sputtering and clutching at her throat, eyes crossed.
"Oh, for the love of God, listen, sit down, shut your yap for ten seconds, and I'll bring you your damn coffee, will you please just do that for me?" he begged, reaching for a mug and the coffee pot. "I take it decaf is not an option for you?"
The woman shook her head silently, watching the coffee pot intensely as he brought it closer to where she was sitting.
"Finally, some relief," Luke groaned. He filled the coffee cup to the brim, and watched in fascination as the woman attacked the cup, drinking deeply.
She set the cup down and smiled up at Luke, her face aglow. "You're pretty!" she stated in gratitude.
"Junkie," Luke growled and topped her cup off again.
"I want to marry your coffee," she whispered reverently.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you're just passing through," he begged.
The woman grinned. "Nope, I'm going to be around for quite a while, actually, and you, my friend, have just gained a new customer. Your coffee is better than sex," she pronounced.
Luke arched an eyebrow at the woman. "You lead a very lonely existence if that's what you think," he said, shaking his head.
She nodded comically. "That I do, Duke."
"Luke," he sighed. "Well, if you're going to be annoying me on a regular basis, I should at least know your name, right?" he asked resignedly.
"Lorelai," she beamed, laying money down on the counter. "Nice to meet you, Duke. Great coffee, but the service kind of sucks. I gotta run. See ya later!" she said gaily as she bounced out through the diner door.
Luke watched her as she pranced across the town square. He shook his head violently, trying to recuperate from the tornado that had just whirled through his diner.
"Lorelai," Luke muttered thoughtfully.
He had a feeling that this woman was going to be a colossal source of irritation for him in the future. Luke turned back to the sea of customers still waiting to be served.
He smiled to himself. Life in Stars Hollow had just gotten very interesting for Luke Danes.
Interlude
Eight years.
He stared at the ceiling above his head, trying to ignore the lingering scent of her perfume that still clung to the pillow beside him.
It had taken him eight years to find a window, to find a place in her life-a part that was bigger than the role of burger server he had played faithfully over the years. He had let opportunity after opportunity slip from his grasp because of fear; fear of rejection, fear that she wouldn't take his feelings seriously, fear that she would run like she always did when confronted with a man who only wanted to love her.
Eight years.
After all that time, he was tired of the fear. He had finally decided that the pain of being rejected was far more tolerable than the pain of never really knowing for sure if he ever even stood a fighting chance.
And so he had bitten the bullet. He read all of the books, listened to all of the tapes.
He saw her face, and he had squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and took that proverbial leap of faith. He asked her to give him a chance.
And she had said 'yes'.
After eight years, she finally said 'yes'.
After eight years, he finally knew the agony and the ecstasy of loving her.
Of being loved BY her.
He knew, on the most intimate levels, the feel of her soft lips on his, on all of him. He had tasted every inch of her flesh, always craving more. His hands had explored every peak and valley her body offered. He knew the contentment of lying naked next to her, hopelessly entangled with her, body pressing against body, and still not feeling close enough.
He knew the frantic anticipation of hovering above her while looking into her eyes, waiting for that moment when they wordlessly said 'yes' to him again. He knew the power of his sheer want whenever he was inside of her. He knew the coldness in the pit of his stomach whenever she was absent from his side.
For the first time in ages, he knew what it felt like to be home. Home was in her arms. Home was in her soft gaze. Home was anywhere she was.
He looked at the pillow beside him, misery etched across his features. It lay there unused, and he had no one to blame for it but himself.
He was the one who told her he couldn't be in this relationship anymore. She had stood before him, nearly in tears, telling him she was all in, that she wanted a middle with him, whatever that meant.
He had said 'no'. He had turned and walked away from her.
He had wanted to say he was still all in, but the old fears were back. He could handle her issues with commitment, but he had come face to face with the privileged world that surrounded her, even though she had rejected it herself, and he felt utterly defeated by it.
He couldn't compete with Christopher. He wasn't Rory's father. He couldn't expect them to expel this person from their lives to soothe his wounded pride. Christopher would always be there.
Emily and Richard would always be there, refusing to accept his presence. They would always scorn his very existence. He had tried to make them see how he felt about her, but they only saw his lowly diner, his beat up truck, his weathered clothes. They would never see the man he wished he had the courage to stand up and force them to see.
He wanted to scream at them, make them realize that he may not be the richest of men, but he had come to who he was now by his own blood, sweat, and tears. He wasn't a bum on a street corner, he was Luke Danes, son of William and Grace, spitting image of his father, with a heart as big and fragile as his mother's. He had learned to fish at his father's side, and had learned to dance in his mother's arms.
Christopher could never make the same claim. He was a son of privilege, and a victim of a life of entitlement.
Yet they would never see the loss, the sacrifice, the struggle. They would only see the lack of breeding, the meager bank accounts. It was more than his foolish pride could bear. But his pride was all he really had.
He clung to that pride, even though it was why he was alone now.
After eight years, he finally knew what it was like to love Lorelai Gilmore.
But now he knew what it felt like to lose her.
He sat up, shaking off the self-pity he had immersed himself in.
He heard Emily's words. He heard her telling him that he had won. That Lorelai wanted him.
He wondered if it was true, if he still had one more opportunity to have her in his life again.
He wondered if his stupid pride would allow him to go to her, to take one more leap of faith.
He wondered what his father would do. He would probably hide in his bed for hours, cursing his own stupid pride, that's what his father would do.
He wondered what his mother would do. He smiled. He knew exactly what she would do.
She would fall to her knees begging for one more chance. She would promise the moon and stars. She would embrace her own foolish romanticism. She would sell her pride to the lowest bidder if it meant having the one thing in the world that meant more to her than her own life. She was not above doing anything it took to find her way back home again.
Luke grabbed his keys and practically flew to his truck, his mind made up, his destination certain.
Most people knew he was definitely his father's son, but the one thing they overlooked was he was also just like his mother.
He was going to find his way back home again.
It had taken him eight years to find it, he wasn't about to give it up without a fight.
Purging
"Come on, Lorelai, you know the deal here," Luke muttered.
Lorelai stood stubbornly in his doorway, drinking in Luke's appearance. He looked haggard, more stubble than usual, bloodshot eyes with bags underneath, betraying the fact that he had not gotten any restful sleep the night before.
"I know," she said softly. "But maybe you need to start handling this Dark Day of yours a little differently," she offered.
Luke cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. "Listen, I'm just trying to spare you from having to deal with my shitty mood today, at least any more than you've already had to deal with it. No need for psychotherapy." He had already had enough unpleasant run-ins with Lorelai today. She had caught him bawling out Mrs. Thompson for asking him to move his father's boat because she was moving, and then he had ended up tearing Lorelai to shreds because she had taken the boat herself in an attempt to be helpful. He had apologized to her later when he calmed down, but the damage was already done. She had seen how foul-tempered he got on this day every year. He hated that he couldn't reign in his attitude enough to be decent toward Lorelai, but damn it, he told her he spent this day alone for a reason, and she kept trying to make it better, which only made it worse.
Lorelai nervously played with a lock of her hair. "I'm not trying to psychoanalyze you," she said, a touch of irritation in her voice. She suddenly pushed past Luke and walked into his darkened apartment.
"What are you doing?" he asked in exasperation as she wandered into the next room. He just wanted to be left alone, today of all days. All he wanted was his one day a year to wallow, why was she denying him this one simple request?
Lorelai walked slowly over to Luke's closet and opened the door. She thoughtfully looked over its contents for a while, then selected a flannel shirt and threw it on the bed. Silently, she began to undress. Luke swallowed hard, watching her peel away her layers of clothing. She stood at the foot of the bed, stark naked, watching him watch her. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth as she picked up the flannel shirt and slowly pulled it on, buttoning it closed over her nakedness.
"Lorelai," he rasped dryly
"Shh," she admonished. She took inventory of what Luke was wearing. He had changed into a t-shirt and jogging pants since she last saw him, obviously intent on staying in for the rest of the night. She walked over to Luke and took his hand, leading him back to the bed. She pulled back the sheets.
"Lie down," she said firmly. Luke glared at her for a moment, then acquiesced to her demand. He climbed into bed and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling to avoid watching to see what she was going to do next. Lorelai got into bed beside him, and pulled the sheets up over both of them, gently tucking him in. When she was done, she lay on her side, head propped up on one hand, gazing intently at Luke.
Luke shifted uncomfortably under her unwavering gaze.
"So..." Lorelai said softly, running her hand through his hair.
"So...what?" Luke muttered gruffly, picking distractedly at the sheets she had draped around him.
"So...Luke's Dark Day, what's that all about?" she asked plaintively.
Luke looked at her quizzically. "I've told you a hundred times already. Anniversary of my dad's death. Big, crappy day for me," he shrugged.
"You told me once," she reminded him. "I thought maybe it would help if you just, I don't know, got your feelings off your chest for a change, instead of bottling it all up, you know, like you tend to do," she stammered.
Luke groaned. "Too hard to pick one feeling out," he said honestly. "I wouldn't know which one to even start with."
Lorelai watched Luke fidget nervously, obviously uncomfortable with her attempts to get him to share.
She dragged her fingers idly across Luke's forehead, tracing the lines that time had left behind. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Just try," she pleaded. She stopped her fingers and gently poked him in the center of his forehead. "Like, what thought is floating around in this general vicinity?" she asked with an encouraging smile.
Luke flinched dramatically, and forcefully yanked her hand from his head. He nearly leapt out of bed, clamoring to get away from Lorelai.
"Luke?" Lorelai whispered, stunned by the violent way he had recoiled from her. She stared at him as he stared back at her, wild-eyed and panting heavily.
"Luke, what just happened there?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
Luke sighed shakily and sat back down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. He moaned softly as he felt the tears well up in his eyes.
"Talk to me, Babe," Lorelai begged, touching his shoulder but withdrawing her hand quickly as she felt him jump at the contact.
"Mom," Luke hissed, his voice muffled by his hands.
"Mom?" Lorelai asked, confused. Luke looked up at her, the pain evident in his eyes.
"My mom, that's what...she used to always...that's what she used to do to get me to talk to her," he replied raggedly. His chest hitched as he remembered the last time Grace had ever done that to him, as she lay dying. "She used to...with her finger...just like...and she'd poke me in the head, just like you did," he sputtered, desperately trying to form a coherent sentence. "It was her trick, she'd sucker me into talking just like that, like you just tried to do," he managed to choke out.
Lorelai sat upright and stared at Luke, mouth agape. She struggled to find words as she watched Luke fight to control himself and his emotions. He had wrapped his arms around himself, staring at the wall, blinking rapidly to keep the tears that swam in his eyes from spilling over. He was rocking unconsciously, as though he were trying to shield himself from whatever memory she had inadvertently triggered.
"Oh my god," Lorelai murmured. "Oh, Babe, I'm so sorry Luke, I didn't mean..." she trailed off as she saw him shake his head.
"No," he muttered. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Luke suddenly turned around to face Lorelai, avoiding eye contact. He reached for her and pulled her to him, crushing her lips with his own. He kissed her deeply, gasping for air as he pushed her back onto the bed.
"Luke," Lorelai whispered, but he cut her off, covering her mouth with his own again. He parted her lips forcefully with his tongue, plunging it into her mouth. Lorelai moaned and wrapped her arms around him, dragging her fingers up his back. He dipped his head and dragged his lips across her throat, recklessly licking and nipping his way up her neck.
Lorelai moved her hand to the side of his head, her thumb caressing his cheek as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. Lorelai's eyes flew open when she felt wetness where her thumb had just traced, and she pulled Luke's head up into view. His normally soft, blue eyes were a dark, steely grey, and nearly obscured by tears. His brow was furrowed deeply, and his teeth were clenched so tightly she could see the muscles around his jaw bulging out.
"Don't," he whispered.
"Luke, damn it, talk to me," Lorelai begged, sitting up.
Luke closed his eyes and shook his head silently.
Lorelai clasped his face in her hands. "Talk," she demanded.
Luke groaned. "This is why I keep to myself," he seethed. He grabbed his pillow and threw it into Lorelai's lap, plopping his head down forcefully.
Lorelai stroked his hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" Luke grunted, swiping angrily at his damp face.
"For upsetting you, that you even have to have a day like this, for everything," she sighed, finally grasping the intensity of the loss that he still felt whenever he thought of his parents. Luke didn't reply.
"You were really young when she died, weren't you?" Lorelai asked softly, fingering a tuft of Luke's hair.
Luke nodded silently.
"Seven," he finally grunted.
"Wow," Lorelai gasped. "That's so...young. Did you even understand what was happening?"
Luke shrugged. "Yeah. No. You figure things out when you realize your mother's hair is falling out in clumps," he sighed miserably.
Lorelai shuddered involuntarily. "I couldn't even imagine," she admitted.
Luke shifted, rubbing his hand up and down Lorelai's leg. She waited to see if he would continue on his own. Luke remained silent for a long time, still rubbing her leg.
"I was there," he whispered.
"Where?" Lorelai asked, not understanding.
"When she died," he explained quietly. "My dad was asleep. Mom and I were together in her bed. We were talking, and she just...kind of...faded away,"
"Oh my god," Lorelai gasped. "Did you know? Did she know?" she asked, feeling tears well up in her own eyes now.
Luke nodded and buried his face in his pillow. Lorelai did her best to comfort Luke without being overbearing. She wanted to sweep him up in her arms and hold him tight, but she remained still, hoping that talking about it all would help him.
Luke unburied his face and resumed stroking Lorelai's leg as he fought to find a way to describe Grace's death without falling apart.
"She knew. It wasn't...bad...Her breathing. It was hard for her, but I don't think she was in pain. Maybe she just didn't want me to know she was. She just kept saying she was sorry," Luke sighed. "She just went to sleep. I had my head on her chest. I could hear her heart, and it was really fast, and I didn't understand why it was beating so fast. I guess I thought it should have been slow. But after a while I didn't hear it anymore," he continued, trying to control the tremble in his voice. "But I just stayed there. I didn't get my dad. I just stayed there until he woke up."
"Oh, Babe," Lorelai sighed sympathetically, stroking Luke's cheek.
Luke laughed suddenly.
"What?" Lorelai asked uncertainly.
"I socked Dad," he chuckled. "I forgot about that. He kept trying to pick me up, to get me away from all that, and when he finally got me out of the bed, I punched him. Socked him right in the jaw, and ran away."
"Oh dear," Lorelai said, stifling a smile.
"That's the only time I ever did anything like that where I didn't end up with him chasing me around the house with his belt," Luke laughed.
"You got spanked a lot growing up, didn't you?" Lorelai grinned.
Luke grinned back at Lorelai. "Only when my dad wasn't feeling very creative with his punishments," he stated.
Lorelai cocked her head curiously. "Okay, spill. What on earth could you have ever done to inspire your father to have to dream up alternative punishments?" she queried, fascinated.
Luke rolled over onto his back, his head still in Lorelai's lap. "I had issues with cursing," he admitted.
"No," Lorelai gasped, feigning surprise. "You?"
Luke nodded. "But you don't understand, I always tried to copy everything my dad did, so I started cussing when I was in kindergarten. He'd always wail on me for doing it, too, and he just never got that I was imitating him. It's downright pathetic, the number of times that I've literally had my mouth washed out with soap."
"Oh my god, like in 'A Christmas Story'?" Lorelai squealed gleefully.
"Yup," Luke sighed. "Only Dad liked to go for Lava soap, he figured the grit would heighten the unpleasantness."
"Did it work?" Lorelai giggled.
Luke blinked, thinking back on the soaping traumas in his life. "Nooo, but I do remember burping up a bubble once."
Lorelai shrieked with laughter, and Luke couldn't help but follow suit.
"More," Lorelai gasped, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. "More crime and punishment."
Luke groaned. "Uh, okay, I um...used to smoke when I was a kid," he cringed.
"What?" Lorelai screamed. "You SMOKED? Mister Red Meat Bad smoked?" she asked incredulously.
"I never said I smoked WELL," Luke explained. "It was mostly stealing a pack of smokes from somebody's father and hiding behind the school and holding a lit cigarette to look cool. I don't even know that I ever even inhaled the right way," he argued.
"So your dad eventually busted you," Lorelai prodded.
"Yep," Luke grinned. "He bought a carton of cigarettes and he dragged me out to the kitchen, gave me a lighter, and told me to sit there until I smoked every single one."
Lorelai clapped her hands in delight. "How far did you get?" she asked excitedly.
"I was ready to give up on the third cigarette," Luke admitted. "But he kept pushing me, and I actually got through four packs before things turned ugly."
"You didn't," Lorelai gasped.
"Ralphed all over the kitchen floor," Luke groaned. "And I puked for three hours straight. Very long night."
"More," Lorelai begged.
"Oh boy," Luke moaned. "I have a really good example of my father's cruelty, but it involves Rachel," he said, glancing at Lorelai. "Can you handle it?"
Lorelai gritted her teeth. "My need to know far outweighs my need to pretend that Rachel never existed," Lorelai said.
"Okay," Luke said. "So, I'm sure you've already guessed that she was my, you know, my first," Luke stammered. "Eventually, Dad figured it out, and he tried to play it cool, but the one clear rule was no messing around in the house."
"And obviously, you messed around in the house," Lorelai grimaced.
Luke nodded, blushing. "Her car was parked right in front of the house, and Dad came home earlier than we expected him to. We were...um...very occupied when we heard the front door open. Dad stomped around and banged things really loud, I guess to announce his presence, and we were scrambling for clothing. Rachel ended up diving out my bedroom window and climbing down over the porch, dressed except for her underwear. We couldn't find them and we were too panicked to waste time on the search as long as she had the other essentials," Luke explained. "So Dad comes up to talk to me, some stupid reason that was only to make sure that Rachel was gone, and there was no more hanky-panky happening. I saw her bra on the floor beside him and threw a towel over it, and when Dad left, I found her panties and hid everything under my pillow. The next day I come home from school, and when I go into my room, there are her bra and panties superglued to my wall, and my entire condom collection stapled individually to my curtains. There was a note on my pillow in big magic markered uppercase letters saying 'NOT IN MY HOUSE!'. Neither of us said a word to one another about it, and Rachel never stepped foot in my room ever again," Luke grinned sheepishly.
Lorelai moaned as she tried to control her laughter. "I loooove your dad," she giggled.
"Me too," Luke sighed.
"It was cancer with him too?" Lorelai questioned warily.
Luke nodded. "Yeah, nice gene pool I'm swimming in, huh?" he said sarcastically.
"So that explains the health nut ways," Lorelai surmised.
"Yeah," Luke admitted. "I just...don't want to die like that," he whispered. "It was all so ugly, and they were too young. My mother died not too long before her thirtieth birthday. Rory's not so much younger than my mom was," he said, stunned by the realization. Lorelai gripped Luke's forearm, horrified at the knowledge of how young Luke's mother was when she passed away. She herself had already lived more years than Grace had.
Luke swallowed hard. "Dad wasn't much older than I am now when he got sick," he moaned. "He didn't look like he was still in his forties when he died. He looked like he was sixty," he continued. "I never really thought about how young they really were. Mom and Dad got married when she was twenty one and he was twenty four. They had me right out the starting gate. They were so goddamned young," Luke gasped.
"They were," Lorelai agreed sadly, feeling tears spring up in her eyes again as she watched Luke wrestle with his pain.
"That could be me, anytime," Luke whispered, looking up into Lorelai's eyes, not even trying to mask the fear that was welling up inside of him.
"Babe, no," Lorelai said soothingly, stroking Luke's furrowed brow. "That doesn't have to be you. You're healthy, you're strong," she said.
Luke blinked. "So were they," he said bluntly.
"You can't think like that," Lorelai argued.
Luke sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "But what if it does happen?" he asked.
Lorelai sighed. "Then we deal," she stated.
"We?" Luke asked, sitting up.
Lorelai nodded. "Yes, we do," she promised. "Even if the worst case scenario happened, there's no way in hell I would ever let you go through it alone."
Luke stared at Lorelai. "I wouldn't want that," he rasped. "I couldn't let you deal with that. I wouldn't. I won't. If I ever got sick, I'd end it. I'd go somewhere far away, and die on my own. I couldn't deal with it, knowing you were watching me die like that."
Lorelai looked stunned. "How could you even say that? How could you think that you could just send me away if something like that happened?" she cried angrily. "I love you, Luke, damn it, you have no right to decide on what terms we stay together. Do you think your father would have taken that from your mother? Do you think he would have accepted it if your mother left you all so you didn't have to watch her die? Do you?" she cried.
Luke jumped from the bed, eyes blazing. "Don't," he warned loudly. "Don't you dare sit there and presume to know anything about my parents just because I told you a couple of anecdotes about my childhood. You don't know squat," he growled, pacing back and forth.
"Luke," Lorelai pleaded.
"No," Luke said sharply. "You don't know anything. It's cancer, Lorelai. Cancer isn't nice. It isn't pleasant. There's nothing peaceful about dying from cancer. There's nothing noble about it. It strips you of everything. It doesn't give a damn about pride, or dignity, or privacy. It doesn't look like what they show on television. The treatment leaves you looking like a skeleton, you lose your hair, you can't eat, they pump you full of poison to try and control it, for the love of god. It eats you alive from the inside out. You lose control of your bodily functions, you puke up bile and blood, you lose your mind, you lose every ounce of strength, you lose every piece of who you were before you got cancer. You become this empty shell. It's ugly, It's horrible, it's sickening, and you don't know how many times I wanted to just run away and never look back when Dad got bad. I didn't want to deal with it. I couldn't stand it, I couldn't stand seeing him that way. You have no way to understand how being in that room was enough to make me sick. Cancer smells, Lorelai, did you know that? Oh god, you couldn't imagine how foul it was. His breath stunk, his body stunk, the room reeked of SICK. I would puke daily. I couldn't stomach being in his room for long. It literally made me sick to my stomach," he ranted.
"But you loved him," Lorelai cried. "You stayed because you loved him. THAT I get, Luke. Loving him was enough to make you stay, loving you would be enough to make ME stay."
Luke shook his head violently. "I will NOT have you carrying around a jug of my piss. I will NOT have you wiping my ass. I will NOT have you cleaning the drool off of my chin. Why can't you respect that? Why can't you respect that I have the right to die without someone I love wallowing knee-deep in my excrement? It's my life, damn it. If I don't want you to deal with that kind of thing, then that's my prerogative. You don't get to argue that," he yelled at her.
"And it's my right to choose whether or not I spend every minute I can have with the man I love," she screamed at him. "You are not going to leave me. You are not going to turn away from me. You are not going to deny me whatever time I have left with you. I love you, and I will not leave your side, and YOU don't get to argue THAT!"
Luke stared at Lorelai, eyes wide, body trembling. "My father died in fucking diapers!" he wailed, and sunk to the floor next to the bed. He was overcome with the fierce sobs that wracked his body. Lorelai fell to her knees beside Luke, finally having her opportunity to wrap her arms around him.
"He died with his family at his side," Lorelai whispered, crying softly. "It doesn't matter how ugly it all was, what matters is he didn't die alone," she whispered, hugging Luke as tightly as possible. Luke pressed his face into Lorelai's neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, sobbing loudly.
"It isn't fair," he cried, "It's not fair, I want them back. I want them back so bad."
"I know, Baby," Lorelai wept, cradling Luke in her arms. "I know you do."
They remained there on the floor for a long time, Luke tears slowly diminishing, Lorelai never wavering in her whispered words of comfort and soothing touches.
Luke finally pulled back from Lorelai, sheepishly wiping his face with the edge of his shirt. "Bet you never thought you'd be dating such a girl," he grumbled, embarrassed by his emotional display.
Lorelai smiled. "Funny," she said. "I was just wondering what took me so damn long to see how amazing you really are."
Luke wrinkled up his nose. "Riiight," he said dryly.
"I was also just thinking how incredible your parents must have been to have been able to leave someone like you as their legacy," she said, tears sparkling in her eyes.
"Thanks," Luke whispered shyly. "But they also made Liz. They should have stopped while they were ahead," he groaned, smiling as Lorelai laughed at the reminder of his loopy sister.
"I wish I could have known them," Lorelai sighed.
"They would have loved you," Luke said. "You and Mom would bond over your mutual weirdness."
"Aw, thanks, hon," Lorelai grimaced. "Glad to know you think I'm weird."
"All evidence supports the conclusion," Luke shrugged. "I'm tired. Are you tired?"
"Exhausted," Lorelai agreed. "Bed?"
"Definitely," Luke sighed as he got to his feet.
"So.." Lorelai said, allowing Luke to pull her up to her feet. "As far as Dark Days go?"
Luke smiled, crawling into his side of the bed. "I don't know, maybe next year...won't be so dark, maybe."
Lorelai pulled the covers up under her chin. "Sounds good to me," she grinned, leaning over to kiss Luke.
Luke pulled Lorelai close and nestled his face into her soft curls.
"Thanks," he whispered softly, and kissed her on the top of her head.
"Any time, Babe," Lorelai smiled, and closed her eyes.
Discord
Luke sat in a chair, staring mutely at the gaping hole in the wall covered haphazardly with a sheet of plastic.
He didn't rant.
He didn't yell.
He didn't plot Kirk's imminent death.
He didn't call the insurance company.
He didn't go get his mop to try and attack the skid marks on the floor.
He certainly didn't pick up the phone to call Lorelai.
He just sat there, contemplating the broken wood, the shattered glass, allowing his muddled thoughts to spin wordlessly around in his mind.
He stared at the mess before him. Luke had never laid his eyes on a more fitting allegory for his life.
His brain churned, random thoughts flying around inside his skull at warp speed.
"I've been here before," Luke mused.
"I recognize that tree." Luke shuddered violently, hearing Lorelai's voice intoning those words in his head.
"Me too," Luke agreed silently.
Located next to the tree was Rock Bottom. Elevation: 0, Population:1.
Enough room for only Luke 'Table For One' Danes, wearing a button that states, "Permanently Fuck Up Your Life. Ask Me How! 0% Introductory APR!".
Best-selling book at Rock Bottom Bookstore is entitled "How To End Up Bitter And Alone In Five Easy Steps" by, you guessed it, Lucas Danes.
Step One: Find out you have a kid you never knew about.
Step Two: Don't mention the kid to your fiancée.
Step Three: Reject your fiancée’s last ditch effort to save your faltering relationship
Step Four: Drive your fiancée into another man's bed.
Step Five: Hire Kirk Gleason as a one-man demolition crew to obliterate the one last constant in your life.
Repeat as necessary until you've achieved your goal of becoming a romantic and social leper!
Luke sighed miserably. The image of Lorelai he had been obsessively carrying around in his mind was suddenly being replaced by sheer lunacy. He wasn't sure if he preferred the lunacy or not. It was currently a little more tolerable than seeing Lorelai, her hair draped over her shoulders, those soft, flawless, creamy white shoulders.
Seeing her smiling seductively, enticingly, closing those brilliant blue eyes and moaning in ecstasy, it was enough to drive a man mad. Especially since every time he closed his eyes, he saw Lorelai doing all that, only doing it with someone else. Imagining her straddling him, riding him, moaning out his name, his hands on her skin, where Luke's hands should be, no one else's, certainly not CHRISTOPHER's god damned hands.
While he lay in his bed two nights ago, trying to figure out how to make things up to her, she had gone to Christopher.
He had a pillow wrapped around his head that night to try and block out all the guilt and frustration he was feeling, and she was in Christopher's bed with her legs wrapped around HIM.
It was enough to make a man feel a little touched in the head.
Or at least enough to make a man get into his truck, and drive for hours just for the opportunity to punch the schmuck in his overprivileged schnozz.
Luke felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward at that memory, still savoring the sight of Christopher sprawled on his back.
But it didn't fix anything.
It didn't make the ache in the pit of his gut go away.
That ache had been there since she had stood before him and said it was over.
She told him she had slept with Christopher.
She slept with Christopher first, THEN officially ended their relationship.
Not Luke's fondest memory of the girl.
He kind of hated her for that. Just a little bit. Okay, sometimes a lot. But usually just a little bit.
Yeah, he had screwed up in a big way. There was no excuse for not telling Lorelai about April, no excuse for shutting Lorelai out, but damn it, couldn't she have just walked away? Why did she have to sleep with the son of a bitch?
But there was no comparison, not really, right?
Lies by omission versus outright infidelity?
Luke shuddered.
"I've been here before, too," he thought.
"Look kids, Big Ben, Tower of London," her voice taunted in his head.
"Shut up," Luke muttered quietly.
He could see Lorelai's face, leaning toward his own, grinning wickedly. "You are not wearing your socks again, mixaphorically speaking, huh, Cool Hand?" she seethed gleefully.
"I am not wearing my socks," Luke groaned, slouching down in his chair.
"Your own damn fault," she argued in his brain. "Maybe next time you'll be a little more open to ultimatums, be a little more forthcoming about the new developments in your pathetic little life."
"Yeah," Luke whispered. "Next time a long-lost daughter comes walking in my diner door, I'm going right to the telephone and ringing up the ole ball and chain, post-haste."
Damn it, she should have understood.
She was supposed to know him, she even claimed to 'get' him. How could she not see that when you wake up one day thinking that your biggest ordeal in life is going to be ordering enough Swiss cheese to make it through the week, and you end up suddenly being someone's father, that sometimes it takes processing? Especially for someone like him. Luke was a processor. Lorelai was well aware of this fact. And processing, by its very nature, has a slow connotation, right?
And what about the whole break with Rory? She had essentially declared that drama off limits to Luke. He wasn't allowed to really participate. Every time he threw in his two cents worth, things got really tense. But he was supposed to immediately invite Lorelai into this sudden father-daughter dynamic he was trying to muddle his way through?
"Hypocrite," Luke scoffed angrily.
"Takes one to know one," she mocked cruelly in the back of his mind.
"How am I a hypocrite?" he wondered, trying to keep from talking out loud, since there was still the occasional gawker standing outside the diner, observing him as he stared back out through the hole.
He didn't know why he even bothered to cover up the argument with Lorelai that he was conjuring up in his head.
It probably wouldn't surprise anyone to find Luke sitting in the middle of his busted up diner, arguing with himself.
Crazy is as crazy does.
And Luke was pretty sure he was going crazy, right about now.
"Let's get back on topic," he heard Lorelai's voice hiss in his head.
"Right-o," he muttered to himself. "Back to the breakdown."
"You are a hypocrite, Burger Boy, because you, Luke Danes, fixer of all things broken, never bothered to even TRY to fix US. You watched us break. You sat there like an idiot and just let it happen. Didn't even crack Bert open to look for something to fix us with. You just let it go. I think you wanted it this way," the phantom voice of Lorelai trumpeted.
Maybe she was right, Luke shrugged. Maybe he did let her slip out of his grasp. He was never completely comfortable in the relationship, he never really expected to be in it for the long haul. This was Lorelai Gilmore, after all. He hadn't figured out how he had finally managed to get her into his life, but he had. Trouble was, he had no idea what to do to keep her. Luke Danes was the fixer of all things broken, but he was also essentially a factory second. You can't fix what was never really whole in the first place.
Luke didn't know how to do happy.
And when you don't know how to do happy, you sure as hell don't know how to make someone else happy.
Luke sighed. He knew what the real problem was.
Happy was foreign to him.
Misery fit like a glove.
He hated feeling like this, but the misery, it was comfortable. He knew it. He knew it well. And eventually, you have to return to the place you feel most like yourself. And Luke never felt more like himself as he did whenever he was the one being left behind.
There was a chilling sense of safety in being at Rock Bottom.
Because at Rock Bottom, no matter how alone you are, at least you can take comfort in knowing that all the cards are on the table, with no ace left in the hole.
No surprises down here.
And Luke was awfully sick and tired of surprises.
Joining
Luke heard a knock at the door, and sat up in bed, trying to shake off the disorientation he felt from being yanked out of a deep sleep as he had just been. He stumbled to the door as a second, louder round of knocking echoed through the apartment.
Luke flung open the door. "Lorelai?"
Lorelai smiled nervously. "Hi. I woke you up, didn't I?"
Luke shook his head as he stifled a yawn. "Yeah. No. I mean, it's okay. Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly.
Lorelai nodded. "Yeah," she assured him, not very convincingly. "It's just...Rory's gone."
Luke reached out and rubbed Lorelai's arm. "I know. I wanted to call and check on you, but I thought you might want to be alone to adjust. Should I have called?" he asked.
"No, I did want to be alone today. But it's nice to know you wanted to check on me," she smiled. "The house is so quiet. I just needed to get out. It's late, I shouldn't have come by here...so late," she stammered.
"Do you want to come in?" Luke offered, stepping aside to let Lorelai by.
Lorelai gave Luke a grateful look and wandered into his apartment, feeling out of place. She smiled when she saw the battered old blue baseball cap hanging on a chair at the kitchen table. It was nice to see that hat again.
Luke stood by the door still, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Lorelai had been here hundreds of times, but that was before..."Do you want something? Coffee? I can make you a burger if you're hungry," Luke offered weakly.
Lorelai turned around. "We need to talk," she whispered.
Luke swallowed hard. "Uh-oh," he muttered.
Lorelai sighed. "Where are we, Luke?" she asked.
Luke blinked. "In...my kitchen?" he replied, confused.
"No, where are we, right now, the whole 'us' thing?" Lorelai continued, looking agitated. "Are we back together? Are we working on things? Where are we?"
Luke slowly moved toward Lorelai. "I don't know," he answered honestly.
"You kissed me," Lorelai whispered.
"You kissed me back," Luke countered, reaching out and fingering a lock of Lorelai's hair.
Lorelai stepped back. "It's not that easy, Luke," she said, a hint of anger in her voice. "You don't just throw a party, kiss me, give me a necklace, and 'voila', everything is fixed, you know. If we're going to try to work things out, we have a lot of talking to do. We have to figure out what really went wrong between us," she ranted, tears sparkling in her eyes. "So much has happened since we broke up. We can't just pretend it never happened."
Luke sighed wearily. "I know," he agreed.
"You shut me out," she reminded him accusingly.
"I know," Luke muttered, closing his eyes.
"You pushed me away." Lorelai's cheeks flushed as her anger mounted.
"I did," Luke replied, gazing at Lorelai sorrowfully.
"There's just so much we have to figure out," Lorelai moaned, leaning against the counter.
Luke eyed Lorelai warily. "I know that, Lorelai," he stated. "But we both have a lot of things to work on. You handled things wrong yourself. You went to Christopher," he said through gritted teeth. "That's a sting that's never going to go away completely."
Lorelai hung her head. "I'm sorry," she whimpered as the tears flowed.
Luke walked up to Lorelai, placing his hands on the counter with her in between his arms. "I'm sorry, too," he said softly "I'm willing to work on this if you are," he promised.
Lorelai looked up to meet Luke's gaze. "We have so much to talk about," she repeated. "So much to work on."
Luke sighed, and leaned his forehead on Lorelai's, unsure of what to do with himself.
"Can we start talking about it tomorrow?" he heard Lorelai barely whisper.
Luke raised his head. "What do you mean?" he rasped.
Lorelai cleared her throat, not breaking eye contact with Luke. "Can we start working on things tomorrow? Right now, can't you just be kissing me?" she asked breathlessly.
Luke didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around Lorelai, pulling her close. His mouth sought out hers, and he moaned when he felt her soft lips on his again, feeling her desire blend with his. He traced a path across her bottom lip with his tongue, moaning more deeply when he heard her gasp and felt her fingernails graze his back over his shirt.
Luke pressed his lips more insistently against Lorelai's, his tongue darting out greedily as she parted her lips. Lorelai met Luke's tongue with her own, battling for control. Luke groaned as he felt Lorelai's tongue explore his mouth, darting around fervently. They parted, both gasping for air. Lorelai closed her eyes, overcome with the realization that she and Luke were so close again after so long. Luke took advantage of Lorelai's moment of distraction and lowered his head, hungry to taste her flesh again. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her hips tight against his as he dragged his lips down her neck. Lorelai gasped at the familiar sensation of his stubble against her skin and sank her hand into the hair on the back of Luke's head.
"Oh, Luke," Lorelai sighed, shivering as he sucked and licked a path toward the soft skin underneath her chin. Lorelai leaned her head back to allow Luke better access.
Luke uttered a low growl at her acquiescence and nipped at her throat with his teeth. "Tomorrow," Luke rasped. "Tomorrow we'll talk."
Lorelai nodded as she unconsciously ground her hips against Luke's very obvious erection.
"Tomorrow," she gasped as she found Luke's earlobe and sucked it into her mouth.
"Oh, god," Luke hissed as Lorelai's tongue massaged his ear. "I missed you so much."
Lorelai pulled Luke's face into view. "I've missed you too, Babe," she whispered huskily. "Now take off your shirt."
Luke grinned slyly and pulled off his shirt, closing his eyes as Lorelai traced a path with her fingers from his belly button to his shoulders. "I've missed that too," he moaned.
"Is that all you missed?" she asked shakily, as she fingered a button on her blouse.
Luke stared the hands that were slowly working to expose their owner. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara.
"Mmm," Lorelai replied approvingly, watching Luke's tongue slowly drag across his lower lip. "There's something I've definitely missed."
Luke inhaled sharply at the implication and reached behind Lorelai, quickly pulling down the zipper to loosen her skirt. He held the flimsy fabric in place as he searched her face for her assurance that this was what she really wanted. Lorelai stared at him, wide-eyed, and nodded encouragingly. Luke removed his hands from her hips, allowing the skirt to fall to the floor.
"Lorelai," Luke whispered, rubbing her sides with his hands up to her bra and back down to her panties repeatedly, hardly comprehending that he was able to touch her so intimately again.
"What is it?" Lorelai murmured, gently trailing kisses up Luke's bicep and over his shoulder.
Luke groaned. "This doesn't fix anything," he muttered, trying to keep control of his emotions, his actions.
"Not a band-aid," Lorelai said. "Just reminding ourselves what we're fighting for, right?"
Luke nodded, and pulled her tight against him, covering her mouth with his own, kissing her with all of his might.
"Lips," Lorelai moaned as they parted for air. "Miss those lips."
"Miss all of you," Luke panted.
Luke dipped his head, ran his lips along her clavicle, as he hooked his thumbs around the fabric still covering her hips. Lorelai chuckled as she felt him push her panties down.
"You want to have me in your kitchen, on this, the evening of our reconciliation?" she asked innocently as she stepped out of the crumpled panties that were draped around her ankles.
Luke looked up at Lorelai. "Bed too far away," he grunted as he grazed his teeth along her shoulder.
Luke straightened up and spun Lorelai around, walking her backward toward the kitchen table, nibbling at her ear as she blindly fumbled with his belt and jean fly.
"Anywhere you want me," Lorelai sighed as she slid his jeans over his hips and gripped his backside. Luke lifted Lorelai and sat her on the edge of the table.
Luke ran his hands up and down her thighs, trying not to focus too hard on her near total nudity. "Forgot something," he smiled as her reached behind her and unclasped her bra.
"Oops," Lorelai giggled as she shrugged the straps off her shoulders, reveling in the familiarity of their intimate dance.
Luke flung the bra over his shoulder and bent in to kiss Lorelai, suckling her lower lip almost reverently as he brushed his fingertips over the swells of her breasts. Lorelai slowly moved to lay back, and Luke followed. He abruptly placed his hand in the small of her back when she had lowered herself back onto her elbows. Lorelai looked at Luke questioningly, wondering if he was having second thoughts.
"Far enough," he grunted and straightened up. Luke pulled a chair up to the table, and Lorelai's breath caught in her throat when she saw a wicked gleam form in his eyes. She'd seen that gleam once or twice in the past. It always appeared when Luke was feeling particularly bold. She shivered excitedly as she wondered what he was about to do.
Luke sat in the chair, a slow smile forming on his lips.
"What are you going to do?" Lorelai grinned.
Luke remained silent as he leaned forward, taking her hips and pulling her to the edge of the table. He grasped her ankles with both hands and slowly, methodically began massaging his way ever upward. Luke's eyes met Lorelai's as his hands slowly slid up her legs, reaching around, gently but firmly squeezing her calves, running over and behind her knees, and finally reaching her thighs. The gleam in his eyes reappeared as he slid his thumbs slowly up the soft skin of her inner thighs. Lorelai moaned appreciatively as his thumbs kept coming dangerously close to finding out how aroused she was, but Luke was holding back, too wrapped up in reacquainting himself with Lorelai's body to give in to his desire yet.
Luke dipped his hands between Lorelai's legs, letting out a soft whimper as he slowly spread them apart, exposing Lorelai fully to himself. Lorelai sucked in her breath as she saw the sheer desire dance across Luke's face. She squirmed as Luke remained seated, not moving his hands from her thighs. He stared intently at her sex, breathing heavily as his lust increased.
"Stay still," Luke whispered, eyes not wavering. He moved his hands further up Lorelai's thighs, thumbs resting where her legs and hips met. He gently pushed, spreading Lorelai's legs wider still.
"Luke," she begged.
"Shh," Luke shushed her gently. "Want to see," he rasped, staring intently. "Want to see what I've missed."
Luke moved his thumbs closer, gently teasing the outer reaches of her most sensitive areas. Lorelai bit her lip and fought the urge to close her eyes, enraptured by Luke's intensity as he studied her. Slowly Luke raised his right hand, and extended one finger, softly grazing her entrance and working his way slowly, lightly, up the outside of her lips, tracing a path, as light as a feather, around the soft covering over her clit, working his way down the other side, and returning to her opening where he had started.
"You're so wet," Luke breathed, still not taking his eyes off of the sight before him. "So wet," he moaned as he moved his finger up her center, trailing his way back to her clit, with slightly more pressure.
"Luke," Lorelai moaned softly. "You're killing me."
Luke nodded distractedly. "That's...the point," he muttered as he slowly moved his face toward her core, eyes finally travelling up to meet Lorelai's.
"Missed this," he grinned as he darted his tongue out to tease her opening.
"So much," Lorelai agreed, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through her body as his tongue came into contact with her. She gave up the fight to keep her eyes open, and allowed her head to fall back, focusing only on the way his tongue felt on her.
Luke pressed his face against Lorelai's sex, inhaling her intoxicating smell. "So good," Luke moaned as he gave up his own battle for self-control. He gripped her hips as he began desperately stroking her clit with his tongue, circling it, lapping at it, sucking at it.
"Oh god, Luke," Lorelai hissed as she felt the pleasure build rapidly inside of her. She felt a wave of heat wash over her, and she uncontrollably began to grind against Luke's mouth as his tongue's labors became firmer, more insistent, faster. Luke moaned against her and Lorelai gasped at the sensations the vibrations sent through her.
"Luke," she seethed. "Luke, I'm going to..." Lorelai's hips suddenly bucked involuntarily as Luke began sucking her clit vigorously, humming against her to heighten the sensation.
Lorelai wildly reached out her hand and clasped the back of Luke's head, pushing him firmly against her. "Luke," she cried. "Coming..I'm coming..." she wailed as she felt her orgasm take over her body, her hips rocking uncontrollably. As Lorelai's cries of pleasure diminished, Luke slowly raised his head, smiling as she came back to reality.
"Hi," he whispered as Lorelai looked down at him, still panting from the experience.
"Hi," she smiled back shakily.
Luke grinned and stood up, leaning over Lorelai.
"Kiss me," he growled. Lorelai complied willingly, pulling his face to hers and suckling his lower lip, still glistening from her own wetness.
"Remember that?" Luke rasped against her mouth. "Remember what you taste like on my lips?"
"Yes," Lorelai moaned, kissing Luke more deeply. "Tastes wonderful."
"Wonderful," Luke agreed, plunging his tongue into Lorelai's mouth. "Bed," he ordered, wrapping her legs around his middle and lifting her with ease.
"Yessir," Lorelai agreed, lavishing Luke's neck with kisses as he carried her into the bedroom.
Luke knelt on his bed, lowering Lorelai to her back. "Missed the flannel sheets, too," she murmured. Luke stared down at Lorelai, immobilized by the sight of her spread across his bed once again, her dark curls framing her beautiful face.
"We're really going to try this again?" Luke asked, not really sure if he dreaming or not.
"You jump, I jump, Jack," Lorelai whispered.
Luke grinned and pulled off his boxer shorts. He positioned himself over Lorelai, drinking in the sight of her body beneath him, waiting for him.
Lorelai reached up and pulled Luke's face close to hers, kissing his lips softly. Luke closed his eyes and sighed as their tongues intertwined. He broke the kiss and moved lower, kissing her chin, her throat.
Lorelai arched her back as Luke's mouth found the expanse of flesh between her breasts. She moaned softly as she felt his tongue flit across the underside of one breast, then the other. He kissed and nipped his way up toward her right nipple, gazing at it for a moment before drawing it into his mouth, his tongue massaging it lightly into erectness. Luke teased her left nipple with the palm of his hand, as his tongue continued to caress her right. His actions became more fervent as he alternated his attentions between each breast, teasing, licking, sucking, nipping, squeezing, rubbing.
Lorelai writhed passionately as Luke moved his mouth further down her body, circling his tongue around her belly button, dipping in and out of it enticingly. "Luke," she moaned, gripping his shoulders tightly. "I don't think I can take much more of this."
Luke smiled. "What do you suggest I should do?" he asked as he pressed his thumb against her clit, rhythmically circling as Lorelai gasped and clutched wildly at the sheets beneath her.
"In..." Lorelai panted as Luke increased the pressure of his thumb. "Inside. Want you inside of me," she said through clenched teeth.
"As you wish," Luke whispered as he positioned himself between Lorelai's legs. He rubbed the tip of his cock against Lorelai's opening, inhaling sharply at the realization of how ready for him she was. Luke looked at Lorelai, his breath catching as he saw her staring back at him, eyes glistening.
"We're really here?" he asked, still not completely convinced that he and Lorelai had found their ways back to one another.
"We're really here," Lorelai assured Luke. "Katie and Hubbell, finally getting their acts together."
Luke grinned. "It's about freaking time." He bent down and kissed Lorelai deeply, entering her slowly as his tongue explored her mouth.
Lorelai wrapped her arms around Luke as he sank into her, shivering as his flesh pressed against hers.
"I love you," Lorelai gasped as Luke began thrusting into her, slowly, steadily.
"Love you," Luke moaned as he felt Lorelai's inner walls clamp tightly around his cock. "Want to make you happy," he pleaded, increasing his pace.
Lorelai felt her hips involuntarily thrusting to meet Luke's thrusts, felt her hands wander up his arms, across his chest, over his shoulders, up and down his back. She reveled in the familiarity, the knowledge of his body, the awareness that he was inside her again, making her feel the way no other man was ever able to.
Luke snaked his arm behind Lorelai, pulling her up to him as he leaned his weight on one arm, still thrusting rhythmically. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, rejoicing silently as he felt the same old feelings welling up inside of him. He had forgotten how much he could want her, could need her, could need to be inside her. He felt her hands reaching to graze his hips, his ass, and he felt his desire climbing with each stroke.
Luke raised Lorelai's leg around his waist and rolled them so that he was on his back.
"Hi," Lorelai smiled as she found herself suddenly on top of Luke, feeling him throbbing within her.
"Hi," Luke whispered back, gasping as he felt Lorelai slowly rolling her hips in a circular path, as she ran her tongue along his jaw line. Lorelai pushed herself upright and Luke could only stare as she methodically began to pump herself up and down on his rigid cock.
"Oh, god," he muttered as he grasped her hips, meeting Lorelai thrust for thrust. Lorelai stared at Luke through half-closed eyelids, enjoying the way his mouth fell open as she moved to caress her own breasts, alternately rubbing and squeezing in time with her undulating hips.
"Lorelai," Luke moaned as he moved his thumb between her legs, rubbing her glistening clit as she increased her pace. Lorelai threw her head back at Luke's touch, feeling the combination of the pressure of his thumb on her clit and the heat of his cock sliding in and out of her, and she couldn't contain herself any longer.
"Luke," she cried as she felt her orgasm build. "God, Luke, I love you," she screamed as she began riding him as hard as she could.
She shook with the intensity of her climax, barely hearing Luke encouraging her along. "Come for me, Lorelai," he begged as he tried to contain himself. He felt her inner walls spasm wildly around him and he sat up, rolling Lorelai onto her back again.
"Miss this," Luke panted as he thrust into Lorelai, who was still caught in the throes of her orgasm. Luke quickened his pace, unable to control himself any longer. "Miss feeling you come," he moaned, burying his head in her neck as he rode out the convulsions his body was suddenly wracked with.
"Come with me, Luke," Lorelai gasped, as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Come with me, now."
Luke thrust wildly as he sank deeper into Lorelai. "Oh, god," he cried as he felt the ecstasy overtake him. He thrust hard three more times and exploded within Lorelai.
"God," Luke cried as he felt the orgasm surge throughout his body. "Lorelai," he rasped, collapsing on top of her.
They lay still. The only sound was that of their ragged breathing as they slowly recovered from their lovemaking.
"Wow," Lorelai finally whispered, running her fingers through Luke's hair.
Luke could only nod. He was suddenly convinced that his spine had turned to jelly.
"You okay in there?" Lorelai asked, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.
Luke nodded again and slowly rolled to lay beside Lorelai.
He stared at Lorelai solemnly. "You're here," he said quietly.
"Not going anywhere," Lorelai promised, stroking Luke's cheek.
Luke closed his eyes, content. Lorelai squirmed up against Luke, pulling on his arm so he would spoon up behind her. Luke complied without a fight, pulling the bed sheet up around them.
They lay there together, hovering somewhere between asleep and awake for several minutes.
Lorelai thought Luke had fallen asleep when he suddenly shifted and pulled her closer. Luke kissed Lorelai below her earlobe.
"Whatcha thinking, Babe?" Lorelai asked, reaching back and caressing Luke's face.
Luke sighed. "You know what?" he began.
"What?" Lorelai asked.
"Katie and Hubbell were idiots," Luke proclaimed.
"Yeah," Lorelai nodded, smiling happily. "They really were."
Dialogue I
"Why didn't you tell me about April?"
"I didn't know how to."
"You just open your mouth and say,"Hey, Guess what I just found out...""
"Easier said than done."
"Really, did you think it would change how I felt about you?"
"Yeah, I did."
"That's just dumb."
"Yeah."
"You should have told me. I could have handled it. We would have dealt with it."
"I didn't handle it well when I found out. How could I know that you would be able to deal with it?"
"God, why didn't you just tell me?"
"I wasn't ready to watch you leave."
"I wouldn't have."
"I didn't know that then."
"I wouldn't have left."
"I know that now."
"You should have told me."
"I know."
"I should have been involved."
"I know. I'm sorry. I got scared."
"Of what?"
"Lots of things. Everything."
"Like?"
"You wouldn't want to give me time to get to know April. You'd get jealous. You wouldn't like her. She wouldn't like ME. She'd like you better than she'd like me. I'd lose you. I'd lose her. I'd lose me. I don't know, there was so much I was afraid of and I just shut down. I didn't know how to handle it all, and I didn't know how to ask you for help. Suddenly, I'm a father, and I didn't know how to be a father, and I wanted to be her father, but I didn't know how to do it, and I didn't have my own father to ask how to be a father, and yeah, you're a mother, but you had Rory's entire lifetime to learn how to be a mother. I had no warning. I was just suddenly a father to a teenager. a teenage GIRL. Like I know anything about that. And then when I did tell you, you were always so uptight about the subject, so I didn't think I COULD come to you."
"I was uptight because you were shutting me out. You declared April off-limits to me."
"I didn't. I was just trying to get to know her. I thought it was better for the two of us to get used to each other before introducing you into the mix."
"I wouldn't have tried to mother her. I would have just wanted to be her friend."
"I was having a hard enough time getting her to like me. If you got involved, I wouldn't have stood a chance."
"You're so dumb. You're a pretty likeable guy when you put your mind to it. She would have loved you regardless."
"Hey, it took you eight years to figure out that I'm a likeable guy. I didn't want to take that long to make my own daughter realize that herself."
"And then Anna..."
"Christ, don't get me started on Anna."
"Why did you let her have so much control over you? Anna had more say in our relationship than I did, in the end."
"Can't you understand what was going on with her? Anna wasn't exactly a great love in my life. We were together for a while. It never developed into anything big. I didn't love her. I liked her. And I don't think I rated very high for her, either. I mean, come on, I was one of three potential fathers, obviously we didn't have a deep connection when we were together."
"So?"
"So, April's her daughter. She raised her. She was there every step of the way. I wasn't. What court would side with me? A mother for thirteen years, or a dad for a few weeks? I didn't have a leg to stand on. I was walking on eggshells, trying to get to know my kid and not making any false moves that would get that taken away from me. Anna had made it very clear that I was there by invitation only, and that invitation could be revoked at any time."
"I don't like that woman."
"She didn't like you very much, either."
"That's not fair."
"What?"
"Implying that I could be responsible for you losing April."
"I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't want to be put into the position of having to choose between you and April."
"You did choose, really."
"I guess I did. That's the one thing I can't apologize for, though. I can't apologize for choosing my kid."
"No. I guess you can't. But you should have at least recognized what that meant."
"What did it mean?"
"That you're a good father. That putting your child before your own happiness means you're a father. Even if it makes you a dumb guy."
"Touche."
"You should have stood up for yourself."
"I did, eventually. But all it accomplished was backing Anna into a corner, and she still tried to take April away from me."
"But you fought back."
"I didn't think I was going to win."
"But you didn't just give up. You brought out the big guns."
"I brought you out."
"Yeah, ironic isn't it?"
"Ironic?"
"Ultimately, you credit me for being responsible for helping you keep April in your life."
"Yeah, ironic."
"I meant every word I said in that letter."
"You don't know what it meant to hear that stuff. I ruined what we had, and you still said all that. I barely held it together when the judge was reading your letter."
"Aw, Luke, you old softie."
"She read your letter, and I knew. I knew I would always love you. Damn, that hurt. Knowing I loved you and wasn't going to be able to get you back. That you were with someone else. I would have lost the case without your help, and I couldn't even really thank you. I didn't have that access anymore. All I wanted to do was run out of there and hug you. And I couldn't. Even if I lost, you still were the only reason why I even felt like I had a fighting chance."
"You couldn't have lost. You're a good father, and it shows. And if you had let me, I would have been there telling you what a great father I always knew you would be someday."
"And how could you possibly know that?"
"Rory. I saw how you treated Rory all those years. You were more of a father to her than Christopher had ever been. You loved her. You protected her. And you didn't even have to. That speaks volumes about you, my friend."
"Anna's choices spoke volumes about me, as far as I was concerned."
"Meaning?"
"They made me wonder about things, that's all I'm saying."
"What things?"
"Like, what does it say about me when someone decided that the better option was to raise a child fatherless rather than being stuck with me as a dad?"
"If that's what she thought, she didn't know you very well at all."
"I was afraid she was right. I didn't want to find out that she was right all along. I didn't want to make a baby with you, and then find out too late I had no business trying to raise a kid, that I really was a lousy father, that I was a failure at being a part of a family."
"So you pushed me away. You let me go."
"I pushed."
"I didn't consider that."
"What?"
"That you letting me walk away wasn't because you didn't love me. You let me go because you thought you were going to let me down."
"I don't have a very good track record with Happily Ever After."
"Who does?"
"Most of your Disney princesses do."
"This is true. But I don't see any talking mice running around town, so maybe you should lower your bar a little."
"I'm learning."
"So what makes you think we can do things differently now?"
"I've learned things. I think I may have actually had some growth in the time we were apart."
"And what have you learned?"
"That I AM a good father. That I can be a father from the start. I know I can do it. I know I want it. I know that I can survive having to take my kid to the hospital, I know that I can survive field trips. I know that I can survive prepubescent emotional breakdowns. I know that I can stand up for myself and win. I know that my daughter loves me. I couldn't say any of that before. And I know I love you, and I know I want a family with you. And I know I'm never going to let anything get in the way of that ever again. I'm ready to be happy. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to stay where I belong, and I belong with you. You belong with me. Screw anyone or anything that tries to tell us differently."
"I think I like the new and improved Luke Danes."
"I think I like him, too."
Dialogue II
"And then there's Christopher."
"Are you sure we should talk about Christopher? I'm having more fun talking about all of your issues."
"You have plenty of issues yourself. Time to shift some blame, here."
"Ugh."
"You cheated on me."
"Technically, I didn't."
"You're walking a thin, shaky line if that's your logic."
"It was pretty clear that we had broken up."
"It was clear to me that you were pissed off that I didn't run off and elope with you that night. I didn't hear anything about breaking up completely."
"I thought we were through."
"You should have mentioned that to me before you went to him."
"But..."
"No, you don't have a fight, assume you break up, and sleep with someone within two hours."
"No."
"Christ, do you know how insane that made me?"
"I have a good idea."
"Not good enough. I was ranting and raving at you, and you weren't even there. I was sure someone was going to catch me talking to myself and have me carted off to the loony bin."
"Talking to yourself?"
"Yeah, only to you. I kept hearing you rubbing it in, in my head. We were even discussing socks."
"Socks?"
"Yeah, socks. Like Nicole?"
"Oh. Ow."
"Yeah, you really know how to hit a guy where it hurts, you know that?"
"I'm sorry."
"You should be. That was a low blow."
"I was confused. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't think. I just found myself on his doorstep."
"And his penis accidentally just fell..."
"Don't. We don't need to rehash the gory details."
"Yeah. I might have to punch him again."
"You've punched Christopher enough for this lifetime. Save some for the next incarnation."
"Why did you do it?"
"I just told you, I was confused."
"That's bullshit. You don't wander into someone else's bed out of confusion. You had reasons. I've 'fessed up about my reasoning, at least give me the same courtesy."
"I was alone. I felt so alone, and Christopher made me feel less lonely."
"And that's it?"
"Yes. No. I guess I just wanted to..."
"What?"
"I just was so angry and so hurt and..."
"Yeah?"
"I needed to vent, I needed to do something, anything."
"Come on, Lorelai..."
"I wanted to...I guess I just..."
"Just say it. You know it. I know it. Let's just have it out in the open so we can move on, okay?"
"I wanted to hurt you."
"Yeah."
"I wanted to lash out at you."
"And what better way to do it?"
"Sleep with Christopher."
"You knew I'd find out eventually."
"I did."
"And on some level, you wanted me to know, so you could make me feel bad."
"As bad as you had made me feel."
"So you went for the one thing that would completely devastate me."
"I did. But I didn't plan it out. I didn't go there thinking that I was going to show you. I don't think I even realized what my motivation was until much later."
"I get it. I deserved the lashing out. Maybe not the sex with Christopher part, but I get wanting to hurt me. It worked, though. You hit a Grand Slam with that move."
"I wish I didn't do such a good job. I wish I had just done something stupid like slashed your tires, poured sugar in your salt shakers, told Taylor you were having latent homosexual fantasies about him..."
"Wow."
"What?"
"The Taylor thing, that would have hurt. That would have been...evil."
"See? I had many options."
"You should have stuck with the salt shakers."
"I'll remember that for next time."
"There's not going to be a next time."
"Right. Because we're smart now, right?"
"Right. So the marriage thing, was that an extension of trying to twist the knife you had already buried in my gut?"
"No. It was...I don't know. I guess I figured that maybe I should go back to the beginning, that maybe I belonged with Christopher all along and that was why I just couldn't make it work with you. With anyone."
"Boy, you suck at self-analysis."
"Yeah, I do. Hence the trail of broken relationships."
"Were you happy?"
"I wasn't miserable. I just felt...out of it. Sort of like I wasn't in sync with Chris. But I thought it was my fault, not that I had made a mistake."
"But when you got married, were you happy? When you said "I do", did you feel good right then?"
"Yeah, kind of."
"Kind of?"
"I had a lot going on in my head at the time."
"Like what?"
"I was worried about how my parents were going to take it, I knew Rory would be upset with me for doing something so huge without talking to her first. I was distracted, but I was caught up in the moment. Here he was willing to just marry me at the drop of a hat, and I couldn't..."
"Couldn't what?"
"I couldn't figure out why you wouldn't do the same thing. I couldn't understand why you could say you loved me, but wouldn't marry me. That hurt, Luke. You saying no to me hurt as badly as finding out about me and Christopher hurt you. That was your Grand Slam."
"So you married him just because he wanted to marry you?"
"I guess so. I guess I've never really thought about it like that."
"You married him because he asked."
"I married him because he wanted me. It felt good to know someone wanted me, the whole package."
"And I'm the idiot?"
"We're both idiots."
"Agreed."
"I've always wanted you, Lorelai. I may not have known how to show it, I may have pushed you away, but I still wanted you. I can't remember ever not wanting you. I've wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you."
"You need to learn how to show it, then."
"I think I have learned. I think I've finally figured thing outs. I think my problem has always been not being able to accept you wanting me. Do you still want me?"
"I'm here aren't I? Of course I want you."
"Okay. Then I believe you. You want me. I can get behind that. I couldn't accept that before."
"You really believe that I want you?"
"I do."
"Wow, maybe you have learned some things. The Luke I broke up with...well, let's just say once he wrapped his mind around a concept, no matter how wrong he was, he held on tight."
"Well, I'm still that way."
"How so?"
"I'm not letting go of the concept of us again. I'm not budging. So, be forewarned. You're not getting rid of me ever again."
"Good."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Have you learned anything from this mess we made of our lives?"
"I have."
"What's that?"
"I've learned that I was wrong. I thought relationships meant everything just automatically worked, just like in fairy tales. That if you really loved someone, everything would just fall into place. You have to work at love, all the time, 24/7. Love isn't enough. Love is just the cornerstone. You have to build the rest, you have to break a sweat to keep things together. I was looking for that Happily Ever After you mentioned before, and that isn't fair. I learned that Pretty Damn Happy Most Of The Time is just as good. I can still love you, even when you're bugging me. It doesn't mean the end of the world if we don't agree on something. It just means we need to find a middle ground."
"I bug you?"
"Yeah, what with the ranting and raging and the anti-festival mentality, the refusal to put a paper turkey on your counter to celebrate Thanksgiving. You can be tough to deal with sometimes."
"So why choose to deal with that again?"
"Because I still love it. I still love you. I still love watching you just be Luke."
"Masochist."
"Maybe. But I've learned one thing that's going to stick."
"And that is?"
"That I don't work without you. That you are my whole package. That I want to love you, I want to fight with you, I want to go to baseball games with you, I want to drag you to town meetings, I want to live with you, I want to go to sleep with you, I want to wake up next to you, I want to make babies with you, I want to make dinner with you, I want it all. I will never have that with anyone else because they aren't you. No one has ever made me feel like me before, not until I was with you. I always felt like I had to behave a certain way with whoever I was with at the time, and I always felt like I was acting. That's why my relationships never worked. Because I never got a chance to know what it was like to just be me with them. You let me be me. You bring out the best in me. You don't try to change me, you just try to keep up. You accept me. And I wouldn't want you to be anything other than you. And that, my friend, is the kind of middle I can be happy with. You complete me. You had me at hello."
"Okay, knock it off, I've seen Jerry McGuire."
"Sorry, but I gotta be me."
"S'ok, I like you, random movie quotes, and all."
"Luke, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. We're good now."
"No, I need you to really accept my apology. I'm so sorry I hurt you, and I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
"I accept your apology. I do. But you don't have to spend the rest of your life making it up to me. Just spend the rest of your life with me."
"That I can do."
"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I shut you out, I'm sorry I pushed you away, I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to go to you when I should have. I'm not going to do that ever again. I've learned my lesson."
"I accept your apology, too."
"Good, so, clean slate?"
"Clean slate. We have purged our demons. Nothing but clear skies and smooth sailing ahead."
"And when it does get a little rough, we'll deal. Together."
"Together."
"We should make that official."
"And how do we do that?"
"I get a ring, I give it to you, we pick a date, we get married, and we get started, already."
"You already gave me a ring."
"Need a new one. New start, new ring, new game plan."
"Okay, well, you get that ring, and we'll start planning."
"I'm doing it right this time. You need to go shopping, find a dress."
"A dress?"
"Find the kind of dress you want to be wearing when you get engaged. I may not be able to give you a perfect life, but I can give you a perfect proposal. So go out, find the perfect dress, preferably black, and I'll do the rest."
"What are you going to do?"
"You'll find out. Anticipate me on bended knee. The rest is going to be a surprise. I'll have my people contact your people for the date and time."
"I'll tell my people to keep my calendar open."
"Good deal."
"So, Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Good talk, huh?"
"Yeah, definitely a good talk."
Duality
Luke leaned toward Lorelai. "I like the dress," he smiled, trying not to leer at the plunging neckline.
"Should I flip my hair a couple of times to add to the effect?" Lorelai smirked.
Luke shrugged. "I think you've got enough dramatic effect going with the bare shoulders and that slit thing on the dress going on around the thighs, anything else would be icing on the cake."
"I can't believe this is the restaurant you chose. Very swanky," Lorelai mused, glancing around at the surroundings. Luke had selected an exclusive French restaurant in Hartford for the evening, and Lorelai was finding it difficult to look at him without thinking very dirty thoughts. He was clean-shaven, hair freshly cut, and wearing the most expensive suit she had ever seen him willingly add to his closet full of flannel shirts and tees. It was well-tailored, dark blue, and he was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a tie that Luke claimed was made by "Tommy Hil-frigger or one of those other fruity clothing guys." She wondered if Luke actually knew how well he had done with his selection, because the suit made his blue eyes pop in a way she had never seen before. Frankly, every time they made eye contact, Lorelai thought she was going to either melt into a puddle where she sat, or leap over the table into his lap. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that this was clearly the night that Luke was going to officially pop the question, or whether it was his virgin leap into GQ caliber grooming, but the man's eyes were absolutely sparkling tonight.
Luke idly played with Lorelai's hands as she inspected him. "What are you thinking?" he asked shyly.
Lorelai grinned. "I was thinking, do you have any idea how much that wine you ordered is going to cost? I don't want to ruin such a perfect evening by having to perform CPR when you get the bill."
"I did my homework," Luke assured her. "The only thing I'm worried about is what the heck happens when they bring it to the table."
"I think the sommelier will pour it into the glasses, and then we drink it," Lorelai explained dryly.
"But that's the thing. We have a wine-guy. I've never had a wine-guy before. I just know he's going to pour a glass and expect me to do something before he serves it," Luke worried.
"Well, I don't know anything about wine, but having gone on a date or two with pretentious men, I can coach you along. If he pours you a glass, you just pick it up, hold the glass at eye level, swirl it while frowning at the glass, then you sniff it, swirl it again, only this time while frowning down into the glass. Then you take a big sip, but you slurp it. Make sure you slurp. Then think for a minute, frown again, nod your head and say something snotty, like "Intriguing," or "Do I detect a note of..." something stupid like rose, or citrus, or some kind of tree. Maybe even 'new car scent' to mix things up. Either way, he'll take it as you assenting to pouring two full glasses and go away," Lorelai detailed.
"What does any of that accomplish?" Luke chuckled.
"I have no idea," Lorelai said cheerfully. "I just can't believe we are in a restaurant with our own wine-guy. How ritzy are we?"
"Top of the world, Ma," Luke whispered as the sommelier arrived with their bottle of wine. Luke shot Lorelai a look of borderline panic. Lorelai frowned dramatically at Luke, hoping he would take it as a reminder of her instructions.
The sommelier presented the wine to Luke, who frowned on cue and nodded his head approvingly. The sommelier nodded and poured a small amount in a glass and placed it in front of Luke. Luke gave Lorelai another sidelong glance, and Lorelai stifled a giggle as she watched Luke try to maintain a straight face as he picked up the glass.
Luke held up the wine, swirling it in the glass. "Hmm," he intoned with a frown. Luke brought down the glass, and sniffed at the contents, adding another swirl and a frown before he slurped at the drink. Luke screwed up his face, working his mouth in a comical fashion. Lorelai grabbed her napkin and gave an exaggerated cough to hide the snort of laughter she almost let out.
Luke frowned at the glass and set it down abruptly. "Intriguing," he stated to the sommelier. "A very bold blend for this vineyard, don't you agree?" he asked.
The sommelier nodded enthusiastically. "Indeed it is, sir," he said. "You have a very sophisticated palette."
"Thank you," Luke replied solemnly as the sommelier poured their wine and made his exit.
"Oh my god," Lorelai laughed.
Luke covered his mouth as he laughed along with Lorelai. "That was, by far, the most idiotic thing I've ever participated in, in my entire life."
Lorelai wiped away the tears that were forming at the corners of her eyes. "Way to improv, Babe, you really missed your calling in life."
"The stage was always my second love, right behind working a grill," he grinned.
Luke led Lorelai to his truck after the meal. As he opened the door for Lorelai, he leaned in for a soft kiss. "Sorry that you got all dressed up to be chauffeured around in an old beat up Chevy," he apologized.
Lorelai smiled. "It's okay. I like your truck. At least it has a vintage vibe going, while my Jeep only has a fast-food under the car seat kind of vibe happening."
"You're never going to get that funk to go away completely," Luke groaned, wrinkling his nose at the thought of the rotting French fries Lorelai had unearthed a few weeks ago.
"So where next?" Lorelai asked as they pulled out of their parking space.
"Stars Hollow," Luke said.
"So the swanky part of the evening is over?" Lorelai pouted.
"I think you've had enough swank for one night," Luke grinned. "Swanky theater production, swanky French food. You could barely eat your swanky dessert. You were picking at it like a hen."
"It was yummy, and I ate it all," Lorelai retorted.
"You didn't have to if you were full," Luke offered.
"I wasn't full."
"Then why all the picking?" Luke asked.
"Ummm...I was worried there may be a ring in it."
Luke laughed out loud. "Seriously, how dumb do you think I am? You attack desserts like a Hoover going after a dust-bunny!"
"Okay, so not a reasonable fear," Lorelai giggled. "So, the night seems to be winding down, and I have yet to see ring action. What gives?"
Luke smiled knowingly as he stayed focus on the road ahead. "Just keep your panties on, woman."
"What if I'm not wearing any?" Lorelai said seductively.
"Then don't sit on any cold park benches?" Luke replied.
They arrived in Stars Hollow, and Luke parked in front of the diner, jumping out to open the passenger door for Lorelai.
"So what now?" Lorelai asked, starting toward the diner.
Luke reached out and grabbed Lorelai's hand. "Not that way," he grunted as he pulled her back toward him.
"Ooh, intrigue," Lorelai smiled as she turned her face up to kiss Luke.
"I can be a mysterious man when I set my mind to it," Luke whispered, brushing Lorelai's lips with his own. "So, how have I done this evening? Do I have the romance thing down?"
"Flawlessly," Lorelai sighed, running her fingers through the hair that curled above Luke's collar. "Couldn't ask for a more perfect night."
"Night's not over yet," Luke murmured. "Come with me."
"Dirty!" Lorelai gasped as Luke took her hand and led her toward the town square.
"Stop it," Luke growled as they approached the gazebo.
"Where are we going?" Lorelai begged excitedly.
"Right here," Luke stated as they stood near the gazebo.
"And why are we here?" Lorelai asked, her eyes shining with anticipation.
"Because it's a good place to start," Luke grinned.
"It is?" Lorelai asked quizzically.
"Of course it is. Technically we're standing right about where we first got started. Remember that? I figured what better way to start over than going back to the beginning for us. This is where we had our first dance."
"Liz's wedding," Lorelai gasped.
"Yup," Luke smiled, glad that he didn't have to spell it all out for Lorelai.
"Oh my god, Luke, how perfect is this? You're a genius," Lorelai giggled.
"I told you already, I can't offer you a perfect life, but I can offer one perfect thing," he said, smiling shyly. Lorelai couldn't help but remember a similar smile playing across Luke's face when they first started their dance that night at Liz's wedding.
"Come here," Luke said, and led Lorelai up the stairs of the gazebo.
"Oh boy," Lorelai breathed, feeling butterflies take flight in her stomach as she realized Luke was really about to propose to her.
"Just stay here for a second," he said as he left Lorelai standing in the middle of the gazebo.
"Where are you going?" Lorelai asked, confused.
Luke disappeared behind the gazebo. His muffled voice floated up from somewhere near the ground. "Just hold on," she heard.
"Okay," she replied, unsure of what Luke was planning next. Suddenly the gazebo lit up, twinkly lights illuminating the night around them. Soft music began playing from some hidden source. She listened intently as she slowly turned herself around, drinking in the sight of what Luke had created for this moment. There were bunches of pink roses surrounding the inner circumference of the gazebo, rose petals scattered on the floor, and daisy chains wrapped around the pillars that she hadn't noticed in the dark.
Lorelai felt Luke return behind her. She continued staring at the lights and the flowers, tears welling up in her eyes. "Luke," she whispered reverently. "This is so..."
"Perfect?" Luke whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Magically," she breathed as she turned to face Luke. "Perfectly magical."
Luke smiled nervously. "Dance with me?"
Lorelai nodded, suddenly unable to find words as Luke led her in a slow waltz.
"Recognize the song?" Luke whispered huskily.
Lorelai laid her head on Luke's shoulder as they swayed to the music. "Our first dance," she whispered, a tear escaping from her eyes.
Luke smiled as he stepped back from Lorelai. "It was a good start, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Lorelai grinned through her tears. "A very good start," she sighed.
Luke grinned broadly, and lowered himself slowly to one knee. "And this is a good way to start our middle, don't you think?" he asked as he reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a sparkling engagement ring.
"Absolutely," Lorelai whispered, her voice quaking.
Luke nodded and took Lorelai's left hand, hoping she couldn't feel how shaky he was. "In that case, I want you to know that I love you more than I thought I was capable of ever loving another person. You're my world, my heart, my home. I want to spend my life doing everything I can to make you happy. Will you marry me, Lorelai Gilmore?"
Lorelai nodded vehemently as her tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "Yes," she gasped. "I'll marry you, Luke Danes."
Luke slid the engagement ring he had produced on Lorelai's hand and stood up, grinning ear to ear.
"I love you," he whispered as he pulled Lorelai close, kissing her deeply.
"I love you, too," Lorelai sobbed as she wrapped her arms around Luke. "We're finally getting our middle."
"About freaking time," Luke growled as he buried his face in Lorelai's hair and resumed their dance.
Dénouement
"So how are you holding up, there, Burger Boy?" Lorelai asked sleepily.
Luke looked over at Lorelai. "I'm doing. How are you?"
"Better," Lorelai sighed, yawning loudly.
"Still mad at me?" Luke asked.
"Yes."
"Damn."
Lorelai scowled at Luke. "You know, I understand the whole Dark Day concept, but I thought you were getting beyond it."
"I am," Luke defended himself. "I honestly didn't know I had the cell phone turned off. I must have accidentally hit the button as I was closing it."
"You need to keep yourself accessible. You promised you wouldn't shut me out anymore, especially now." Lorelai said, narrowing her eyes.
"Accident," Luke emphasized. "Accidents don't count as shutting someone out. And I wasn't being all that gloomy today, either."
"Yes you were," Lorelai pointed out. "You barely spoke to me this morning, and you made Kirk cry."
"But that cheered me up," Luke countered.
Lorelai shrugged. "Okay, I'll give you that. But you were still being gloomy."
"Okay," Luke sighed. "I woke up a little gloomy."
"You're married to Lorelai Gilmore now," Lorelai pouted. "Gloom should be a thing of the past."
"Well, it's comforting to know that it only took you a year and a half to become a nag," Luke snarked.
"Be thankful it didn't start on the honeymoon," Lorelai shot back.
"I'm doing a happy dance on the inside," Luke groaned, shifting to a more comfortable position.
"Never touch any buttons on your cell phone again without consulting the chart," she chided.
"I find it insulting that you actually felt the need to draw a cell phone chart for me," Luke whined.
"Hello," Lorelai sang accusingly. "I think your little faux pas today proves how badly the chart is needed. I think I actually need to update the chart with helpful little stick figures demonstrating the proper way to use speed dial, seeing as spelling it out it plain English didn't do the trick."
"Aw, jeez," Luke complained. "You're never going to let me live this down. What are you going to be like if I ever really do something wrong, like set the house on fire, or drive my truck into the lake?"
"Mock even more relentlessly," Lorelai promised. "With stick figure graphics."
"Thanks," Luke said dryly.
"You're most welcome, my dear," Lorelai giggled.
"I'm sorry," Luke said, looking at Lorelai with mournful eyes.
"It's okay, we worked it out in the end," she whispered.
"It just figures," Luke sighed. "My perpetual devotion to the inner angst-beast created yet another hassle in my life. I should be on Prozac, or Lithium, or get electro-shock therapy. My need to brood always gets in the way. Why do you put up with me?"
"Because," Lorelai smiled. "I love my little drama-queen. And as far as angsty Dark Days go, you were pretty mellow for the most part. Baby steps, right?"
"Besides making Kirk cry?" Luke muttered thoughtfully. "Yeah, aside from that, I was having a more mellow than usual Dark Day, wasn't I?"
"The winds of change, they are a-blowin'," Lorelai agreed.
"Yeah, they are," Luke said as he stood up and slowly paced around the room.
"You getting tired yet, Babe?" Lorelai asked.
"Nah," Luke said distractedly. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
Luke nodded. "Perfectly fine."
"Would you tell me if you weren't fine?" Lorelai prodded.
"Nope," Luke admitted as he walked back toward the bed. "Wouldn't say a word."
"Typical," Lorelai laughed. "So, technically this counts as shutting me out, too."
"How so?" Luke asked, eyeing Lorelai warily.
"You're not sharing," Lorelai explained.
"So?" Luke asked, walking a few steps away from the bed.
"It's not nice to not share," Lorelai said reproachfully.
"Don't want to share," Luke mumbled.
"Luuuke," Lorelai warned.
Luke shook his head. "Mine."
"Oh my god, are we really doing this?" Lorelai laughed.
Luke smiled and turned his back on Lorelai. "All mine," he whispered.
"Luke, damn it, gimme," Lorelai whined. "We are husband and wife. The State of Connecticut is on my side here. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours. So stop hogging."
"Not hogging," Luke grunted.
"You are too," Lorelai gasped. "I'll cry if you don't quit hogging. You wouldn't want me to cry again, now would you? Haven't you made me cry enough tonight?"
Luke stared at Lorelai wide-eyed. "I can't believe you'd stoop so low. I MADE you cry tonight? How was it my fault?"
Lorelai stuck out her bottom lip. "I've had a very rough day, and you're not scoring good husband points right now. You have no sympathy for my pain and anguish."
"Aw, jeez," Luke sighed. "Fine, I'll share, but not for too long."
Lorelai grinned. "That's my boy, now gimme."
Luke gingerly sat on the bed next to Lorelai. "Can't I have five more minutes?" he pleaded.
"Soon," Lorelai whispered as she reached to gently take the baby out of Luke's arms. "Mommy gets to have a turn for now."
"I'm sorry I made you cry," Luke murmured as he ran his index finger lightly over the sleeping newborn's closed fist.
"It's okay," Lorelai smiled. "I think the earth-shattering pain associated with giving birth was a little more to blame for the crying. I'm sorry I called you a dickhead."
"Not a problem," Luke grinned. "You get a reprieve. You gave birth to my little girl today, so you can shoot as many 'dickhead' comments at me as you want, at least until midnight."
Lorelai smiled as she looked down at the little girl. "Look, Daddy, her eyes are open," Lorelai whispered.
Luke leaned close. "Wow," he whispered. "Her eyes are so huge."
"Looks kind of like Rory's eyes when she was a baby," Lorelai smiled. "I'll bet her eyes stay blue."
Luke swallowed hard. "Reminds me of my mother's eyes," he said.
"We really gotta pick a name, Luke," Lorelai said. ""Can you even leave a hospital without picking out a name?"
"I don't know," Luke shrugged. "What name are you leaning toward?"
"I've got a few ideas, but I've got one name I've been batting around for a bit, and I think I like it."
"What's that?" Luke asked.
Lorelai looked at Luke uncertainly.
"What do you think about...Grace?"
Luke looked at Lorelai, stunned. "Really?" he whispered. "You'd really want to do that?"
Lorelai nodded, tears shining in her eyes. "I'd be honored to name my baby after the woman who gave me you, if you would be all right with it."
Luke nodded, trying to blink away the tears that were forming in his own eyes. "I'd like that," he choked out. "Our own little Gracie."
Lorelai kissed Luke on the cheek. "Then it's settled. Welcome to the family, Gracie."
Luke kissed Lorelai's temple and bent down to softly kiss Gracie's forehead. "Happy Birthday, Gracie."
Lorelai beamed at Luke. "So, as far as Dark Days go..." she began.
Luke grinned at Lorelai. "Best Dark Day ever."
FIN
This story archived at http://gilmore-fiction.net/viewstory.php?sid=4421
Luke sat at the kitchen table, staring at the books strewn out before him. He was going to be stuck here for ages, by the look of things. He picked up a pencil lying nearby, and tried to balance it on the tip of his finger, soon forgetting about all the work he had to get done this evening. All his focus was now fixed on that pencil. He had only dropped it about four times before he finally figured out how to get it to linger upright on his index finger for an impressive twenty seconds.
He let it drop to the table then picked it back up. Luke contemplated his next trick, something he hoped turned out a little better than the stupid droopy pencil thing that Bootsie was always doing. It was impressive in kindergarten, watching Bootsie wave the pencil around in a way that made it look like he was shaking a limp noodle, but he was a sophisticated first grader now and he had moved on to bigger and better things like the pencil fight he and Scoot had been waging for weeks. The battle pencils were deeply scarred from the constant hits they had been taking, but neither Scooter nor Luke had been able to muster a blow hard enough yet to actually break the other's pencil.
Luke heard hushed voices in the living room, but he wouldn't turn to look at who the speakers were. He was doing his best to ignore the activity going on around him.
Liz stood at the kitchen doorway, peering around the corner occasionally. Every now and then, she looked back at Luke, her eyes wide and uncertain. Luke didn't notice. He was now absorbed in trying to get his pencil to remain in place on his curled upper lip. The pencil kept slipping and falling to the table. Luke scowled at the writing implement.
Liz finally stepped away from her lookout duties and clomped over to the kitchen table. Her footsteps echoed loudly, causing Luke to look up and glare at her scornfully.
"What the hell, Lizzie? Mom's going to go mental if she sees you wearing her dancing shoes again," Luke said.
Liz climbed up in the chair across from Luke, uncertainty still lurking behind her eyes.
"Not s'posed to cuss," she noted quietly.
"Who's going to find out, you big tattle-tale?"
Liz thought for a minute. "Want a Twinkie," she said.
Luke narrowed his eyes at Liz. He looked in the direction of the living room once more before sneaking over to the cabinet and pulling out the box of Twinkies. He withdrew one of the wrapped treats and flung it at the kitchen table, silently assenting to his little sister's sudden ability to blackmail.
"Think fast, dork," he cackled and watched the Twinkie sail toward Liz's head.
Liz ducked right before the Twinkie hit the table and skittered off the edge. She slid off the chair and disappeared from view to retrieve the runaway pastry. One hand suddenly appeared on the table top, smashed Twinkie in its grasp, then a second appeared, a disheveled, mostly nude Barbie clenched in it. Liz's head popped up.
"Barbie wants a Twinkie, too," she said.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Barbie's out of luck, no more Twinkies."
Liz scowled and climbed back into her chair.
Luke scowled back. "Eat your Twinkie. And if you rat me out, Barbie's getting a haircut, got it?"
Liz nodded fearfully and clutched her Barbie doll close to her chest. "Got it," she promised and began to eat her squashed snack.
Luke turned his attention back to his pencil. He picked it up, and stuck it under his upper lip, letting it dangle. Liz stopped eating her Twinkie, fascinated by his efforts. He grabbed another pencil and jammed it under the other side of his lip.
Luke raised his eyebrows, enjoying Liz's undivided attention. Standing up, he raised his hands menacingly over his head, walking slowly toward Liz.
"Blegh, I vant to suck your blood," Luke said, trying not to laugh at the fear on his stupid sister's face.
"Stoppit, Luke," she said.
"Blegh, blegh," Luke replied, trying, not very successfully, to execute an evil hiss around the pencils jammed in his mouth. Liz suddenly let out an earsplitting howl and began to cry.
Luke shook his head and yanked the pencils out of his mouth. "Jeez, you're dumb," he said and retreated to his chair.
"Lucas!" a voice boomed from the doorway. Luke and Liz both jumped and turned toward the sound.
"Are you picking on your sister again?" William Danes asked angrily.
"No, sir," Luke muttered and tried to look like he was deeply involved with his homework.
"Then why is Lizzie crying?"
Liz sniffed loudly and whined, "Luke scared me, Daddy."
Luke's head shot up and he glared at Liz. The little cry-baby was going to pay for finking on him. he immediately started figuring out which Barbie was going to pay for her owner's crime. The last time Liz ratted him out, her favorite Barbie had undergone a mysterious amputation of the left leg. This time, Luke might not stop at a haircut. He was thinking a total lobotomy was in order.
"Liz took a Twinkie without asking, and I told her to put it back, and she started crying like a big baby," Luke yelped, figuring if he was going down, he was taking Liz down with him.
Liz's jaw dropped at the blatant lie Luke had just concocted. "Nuh-uh, Luke gave me the Twinkie cuz he said H-E- double hockey sticks, and then he tried to bite me," she screeched in self-defense.
"You're such a whiner," Luke yelled. "Dad, she just..."
"Enough!" William growled.
Liz and Luke clamped their mouths shut simultaneously. Both knew better than to push the issue any further. William was not one to suffer these immature battles between the siblings. The last time Luke had misjudged his father's patience, he had walked around with a handprint on his ass for two days.
William assessed the situation before him. Both children had wisely chosen to cease and desist with the bickering. "Lizzie, go to your room and take a breather," William said.
"But, Daddy..." Liz tried to protest.
"No." William pointed toward the stairs. "Go now. You have fifteen minutes to reflect on why sneaking Twinkies before dinner got you into trouble. And don't come downstairs until I say you can."
"But Luke was being mean!" she wailed. "And he cussed too! He cusses a lot and..."
"Lizzie, go!"
Liz slunk toward the stairs, sticking her tongue out at Luke when she thought her father wasn't looking.
"Do you want to make it thirty minutes?" William asked, knowing full well that Liz wasn't capable of giving up without a fight.
Liz scowled. "No, sir," she replied and trudged up the stairs in defeat.
William turned his attention to Luke, who was still trying to avoid punishment by pretending to be studious.
"Lucas," William said. His voice lost some of its sternness.
Luke rolled his eyes up cautiously at his father. "Yes, sir?"
William sighed and sat down in the chair next to him. Luke had noticed how tired his father was looking lately, and tonight was the worst he had ever looked. William hadn't shaved for days, he had dark circles under his eyes, and the flannel shirt he was wearing was the same one he had on yesterday. Luke knew things were bad in the Danes household, but it only really ever sunk in when he saw his father looking the way he looked now.
"I'm sorry," Luke whispered, before his father could begin his lecture. He meant it. He was really sorry for acting like a jerk to Liz and causing a ruckus. His father had already begged him to be on his best behavior since things had started getting weird, and Luke really was trying to behave, most of the time, anyway. The constant parade of visitors over the last few weeks, the hushed tones, the serious looks on everyone's faces were enough to emphasize that life in the Danes household was far from normal. Luke had taken note of all this, and had been trying his best to stay out of the way and under the radar. It wasn't his fault that Liz kept causing trouble.
William leaned over and ruffled the boy's hair. Poor kid didn't have a clue what was going to happen. Luke stared back at him, waiting for his rebuke.
"Luke," William began again. "I need you to try to be more patient with your sister. I know it can be hard sometimes, but you've got to just learn to go with the flow with that kid. She's a free spirit, that one." Just like her mother. Head always in the clouds, never looking before she leapt, thinking with her heart and not with her head. William had to smile at that. If his wife was one to think with her head, he'd still be single and living in a dirty apartment, scrounging for food at diners and bars since he didn't even have the ability to boil water without screwing it up somehow.
"Yes, sir," Luke said, sorrowful. He was going with the flow, or so he thought. He gave her the darn Twinkie, didn't he?
William looked over his should at Mia, his wife's best friend, who was quietly straightening up the living room. Things were getting really bad, really fast, and he knew he couldn't put off having a serious talk with his eldest child any longer. Mia looked up briefly and gave William an encouraging nod that Luke didn't notice. William turned back to the table, clearing his throat nervously.
"Listen, kid, we have to talk about some things. Some grown up things. You think you can handle that?" William asked, his eyes softly scrutinizing his boy's face. He was too young to have to face this, William knew. He wasn't as worried about Liz. She was still young enough to mercifully not be able to truly understand the gravity of the situation. Luke however, was just old enough to understand the finality of what was happening, to recognize the ugliness of what lay ahead, and to really feel the pain and loss with which they were about to be confronted.
Luke wouldn't look at his father. He knew what was coming. At least he thought he did. This wasn't something he was ready to accept, and he wanted to tell his father to just leave him alone and deal with it on his own. He was the grown up, not Luke. He only wanted to worry about his softball game next weekend, not about everything that was going on here. Luke fidgeted in his chair.
William reached out and gently lifted Luke's chin up until the boy grudgingly made eye contact with him. He marveled at this little carbon copy of himself that sat before him. Everything this kid did was a mirror image of what William did. The stubborn set of Luke's jaw was William's stubborn set of the jaw. The way Luke held his head when he was spoken to, the way he sometimes jutted out his chin, the way he cocked it when he was listening to someone were William's ways of holding his head.
Luke's temper was definitely William's temper, poor kid. Even the way Luke would fly off into a rant about something that was eating at him, arms flailing wildly, accentuating his frustration, those were William's ways. But those eyes, William realized, those big blue eyes were all Grace. He didn't know how he was ever going to make it through this when all was said and done, always seeing his Gracie's eyes staring at him whenever he looked at his only son.
"Luke?" he whispered, pulling himself back to the task at hand.
Luke's eyes stung as he tried to will away the tears that threatened to form. "Mom's sick," Luke said, his voice quavering.
"Yes," William said.
"Really sick."
William squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. "Yeah, hon, she's really sick," he said.
Luke picked at his shirt, sneaking a glance at his father who still had his eyes shut tight.
"Is she going to get better soon?" he asked hopefully.
William opened his eyes. Luke froze at the sight of the single tear that slid down his father's cheek.
"No, kiddo," William whispered. "She isn't going to get better."
Luke dropped his forehead onto the table, tears exploding from his eyes. He wept silently as he felt his father lay his hand on his head, softly stroking his hair.
William sat still, trying not to cry himself. He knew once he started, there would be no end to the tears, and the last thing Luke needed right now was to watch his father come unhinged. He buried his face in his free hand, trying not to dwell on the shudders he could feel overtaking his quietly sobbing boy. He felt his heart breaking. The silent tears Luke was shedding were far more gut wrenching to William than any other reaction Luke could have possibly had.
Luke's tears finally subsided. William looked up as he realized his son's trembling had eased. He could only feel the steady rise and fall of Luke's breathing.
"Hey, guy," William whispered, trying to gauge if Luke was ready to talk.
Luke slowly raised his head. William winced at his tear streaked face and red puffy eyes.
"What?" Luke muttered, angrily swiping at the wetness on his cheeks. William pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Luke's nose. Luke stared at his father, his blue eyes dark and stormy.
"Come here," William said. Luke stood up and walked to his father's side. William contemplated his son for a moment, as Luke stared at his grubby sneakers. William suddenly pulled Luke into his arms, engulfing him in a long hug. Luke resisted at first, but finally buried his face in his father's chest. William took Luke's cue and pulled him up into his lap, cradling the boy in his arms. Luke wasn't interested in fighting his father's attempts to comfort him anymore. He hated being treated like a baby, but right now, the only thing he wanted in the world was for someone to hold him tight enough to keep all the ugliness in his life far away.
For now, Luke thought, the only thing he needed was to have his father hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. He knew they were lies, the quiet assurances his father murmured to him, but right now, the lies were all he really had going for him.
Fracture
Liz stared at her cup of hot chocolate, idly poking at the marshmallows floating on the surface, and Luke leaned against the kitchen counter, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for Liz to finish up with her drink.
Luke sighed. "Come on, Lizzie, you were supposed to be in bed an hour ago. Dad's gonna kick my ass if he finds out you're still awake."
Liz crinkled her nose at Luke. "Still not s'posed to cuss," she pouted, trying to delay her bedtime a few more minutes.
"Shut up," Luke said. He had been saying hell and ass for months now. It was old news. He hadn't gotten up the nerve yet to try any of the big cusses, but he had recently been working through the moral dilemma of whether calling someone a b-i-t-c-h was the same as just outright saying bitch. Whatever the final decision was, he had learned the hard way not to call Bootsie a b-i-t-c-h, at the very least. Bootsie ran crying to his mother, and his mother had called Luke's father. There was a fresh handprint on Luke's backside, but the sting was worth it when he overheard his father laughing to Mia about how Bootsie insisted Luke had called him a b-a-t-c-h. It was the first time the elder Danes had laughed in months, he was sure of it.
"All right, Lizzie, that's enough, let's go," Luke said.
He was tired, and for once, he wanted to go to bed. He had been trying to man up since he and his father had their talk about Luke's mother a few weeks ago. He was taking out the trash, doing dishes, and even trying to cook on occasion. William had carried Grace out to the kitchen just three weeks ago, sitting her at the table as she had requested of him so she could coach Luke along while he attempted a meat loaf dinner with a side of canned corn and instant mashed potatoes.
Grace had given William a look, and he had left her and Luke alone for a while. Luke scurried around the kitchen, climbing on shelves to pull down the various ingredients that Grace was listing for him. He had plopped into a chair next to his mother as he put the meat loaf together and soaked up every bit of attention his mother had been able to lavish on him at the time. They joked, they laughed, and they even committed the cardinal sin of applying the five second rule when Luke sent a rogue hunk of beef flying to the floor.
She had a little more strength than usual that night, and she had managed to make it up to the time that Luke had placed the meat loaf in the oven. Luke felt a momentary rush of anger when his father had finally come to take Grace back to bed, but it quickly abated when he saw that his mother could barely keep her eyes open.
Liz still hadn't budged from her position at the table. Luke stomped over to her. "Come on, Liz, we gotta go to bed now," he said.
"You're not Daddy," Liz stubbornly pointed out, but she relented and let Luke lead her upstairs to her bedroom. He slowed as they passed their parents' room. The door was slightly ajar, and Luke could see his dad slumped in the armchair in the corner. Luke craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his mother, but could only see the foot of the hospital bed that had been placed there for her last week. William and Grace's normal bed was now disassembled and currently taking up space in the spare room. William had taken to sleeping in that armchair every night, to Grace's chagrin, waving off her pleas for him to, at the very least, bring in a cot so he could stretch out.
"Mommy's belly is sick," Liz whispered, breaking Luke out of his reverie. He looked down at his little sister, feeling a little envious of her. She just didn't get it. He wished he didn't get it too.
"Yeah." Luke sighed, pulling Liz away from the door. "She's got a sick belly." He deposited Liz in her bed, and struggled through yet another reading of Where the Wild Things Are. He had the reading thing pretty much down, now, but he still had to sound out the bigger words. He was much better at math, but somehow, he didn't think Liz would tolerate a reading of "If Tom had six apples, and Mary had three..."
When she’d finally drifted off to sleep, Luke tiptoed out of Liz's bedroom. He started to turn toward his own room, but he heard a noise coming from his parents' room. Luke snuck up to their door to investigate.
As he craned his neck into the bedroom, trying to locate the source of the sound, he brushed up against the door, causing it to move slightly. Luke cringed as the ultra-sensitive hinges let out a loud squeak.
"Lucas, that you?" He heard a voice whisper.
Busted, Luke thought. He slunk into the bedroom, expecting his father to be ready with a lecture. His dad, however, was still fast asleep. Luke looked over at the hospital bed, and saw his mother curled up on her side, smiling wanly at him. She motioned for him to come closer. Luke complied, feeling bad because he felt shy around his mother all the time now. It sometimes felt like there was a total stranger living in this room now.
"You should be in bed," Grace said weakly.
"Stupid Liz wouldn't go to bed," Luke said.
Grace chuckled. "Don't call your sister stupid, squirt," she admonished.
Luke nodded, trying not to look at the scarf on his mother's head. That scarf had long ago replaced the wavy dark blonde hair that used to frame his mother's face and cascade well past her shoulders. Luke missed her hair. He used to think his mother was the prettiest mom in town, and now he barely recognized her.
She was painfully thin, her cheeks were hollowed and dark circles made her now dull and lifeless eyes look sunken in. She was very pale, ghostly white. Luke played with the edge of a bed sheet as he tried to remember what his mother had looked like before she got sick. He winced when he realized it was hard to remember a healthy Grace Danes.
Grace patted the bed and motioned for Luke to climb in. He happily complied, trying to be as gentle as possible as he curled up at his mother's side.
"What's on your mind, punk?" Grace asked. Luke smiled. His mother never used the same nickname twice. It was only when Grace uttered the unholy trifecta of Lucas Andrew Danes that he knew the wrath of God was about to beat down upon his shoulders.
Luke shrugged, not wanting to bother her with all the scary thoughts that rolled around in his mind. He would be here for hours if he told her everything that was on his mind.
Grace ran a finger across Luke's forehead, stopping at the center. She softly poked at the spot.
"Okay, so what's going on right there?" she pressed. "What particular thought am I pointing at right now?" Grace had her methods for getting her stubborn son to talk.
Luke looked uncertainly at his mother. "You don't go see the doctor anymore," he said.
Grace kissed Luke's forehead. "No, I don't need to go to the doctor anymore, baby."
"But how do you get your medicine if you don't go to the doctor?" Luke asked.
Grace sighed. "I don't take medicine anymore, Lucas."
Luke flinched. She just used his whole first name. Not a good sign.
"Why not?"
Grace placed a hand on Luke's face. Her eyes shone with tears.
"Daddy said that you two talked about how sick I am," Grace said, looking into her son's eyes. "The medicine I was taking didn't make me get better. It won't help. Your father and I talked, and we decided … at least I decided, that I should stop taking the medicine. It just made me feel yuckier than I already feel, anyway."
Luke furrowed his brow. "Well, then get new medicine," he said.
Grace shook her head. "There isn't any. I've already taken everything the doctors can give me."
Luke was silent. He squirmed closer to his mother and Grace rolled painfully onto her back, motioning for Luke to reposition himself so she could hold him. He scooted up, laying his head on his mother's shoulder. Grace idly played with his hair, ignoring how difficult it was to keep her own arm up. She waited until her son decided he was ready to speak again.
"Don't go," Luke whispered, finally voicing his knowledge that his mother was dying. Tears welled up in his eyes. Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep them from falling.
"I don't want to go," Grace said, her voice quavering. "But I can't stay, Lucas. It's not up to me."
Luke's tears finally broke free. Grace let her own tears flow when she heard Luke try to stifle a sob.
"Not fair," Luke said angrily.
"No," Grace agreed. "It most certainly is not fair at all."
"I love you, Mommy," Luke whispered, burying his face into Grace's shoulder.
"Aw, kid." She sighed. "You have no clue how much I love you back."
Luke opened his eyes and looked around. Grey light was now filtering into the bedroom as dawn slowly approached. He had fallen asleep next to his mother, exhausted from crying. He saw his father stirring in the armchair in the corner. He knew he should go wake up his dad, but he didn't want to get up yet. He just wanted to lie in his mother's arms for a little while longer.
William was slow to awaken. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he tried to stretch out the ever present kink in his neck. He looked over at Grace's bed, seeing their boy lying next to her. Luke was awake, and William watched him curiously for a moment as he stared out the window. William stood up and walked over to the bed.
"Hey, Luke. When did you come in here?" William whispered, trying not to wake Grace.
Luke continued staring out the window, the blue of his eyes as grey as the murky morning sky.
"Luke?" William said, a little louder this time.
Luke looked up at his father, eyes wide. "I don't hear her heart anymore," Luke whispered and returned his gaze to the window.
His son's words jolted him, and he laid his hand on his wife's cheek. It was cold.
"Gracie?" William called, tears springing up in his eyes.
"She had to go." Luke’s voice was a dull monotone. He jammed his thumb into his mouth, and stared out the window at the sun that was just peeking over the rooftops while his father collapsed at the side of the hospital bed, sobbing and calling out his mother's name.
Disconnect
Luke stood at his father's side, absent-mindedly reaching up to clutch William's coat-tail from time to time. As the mourners approached William to offer their condolences, Luke would shrink back and hide behind his father, returning to William's side only when they were alone again.
William noted Luke's somber game of hide and seek. The next time Luke started to maneuver behind, William stopped him by gently placing his hand on Luke's back, and leading the boy back to stand at his father's side. Luke looked up at his father, eyes wide. William tried to offer him a supportive smile, but he didn't smile back. William attempted to get him to acknowledge the townsfolk as they told the child how sorry they were for him, and how brave they thought he was, but Luke would only stare at the ground, pressing back into William's hand, trying to get away from them.
William leaned down over Luke. "Hey, champ," he whispered. "Go give Mia a break and keep an eye on Lizzie. Make sure she stays out of trouble." Luke nodded, and walked away from William, hands jammed in his pockets. William sighed. The boy had barely said two words to anyone since the morning William had woken up to find his wife dead with Luke curled up next to her.
He still didn't even know if Luke had actually witnessed his mother's death, or if he awoke to her lifeless body beside him. In either case, William thought with a shudder, he had failed miserably at shielding his children from that inevitable moment. Either way, Luke had been all alone in whatever he had experienced. William had spent the sleepless nights since Grace's passing alternating between the sight of the love of his love lying motionless in her hospital bed, and the vacant look in his only son's eyes as he wordlessly sucked his thumb.
Luke walked out to the porch where Mia and Liz were deeply immersed in a game of Slap Jack. Liz randomly slapped at anything Mia laid down. Mia chuckled when Liz slapped the three of hearts she had just placed on the pile, and put up no fight while Liz triumphantly claimed the stack of cards. Luke leaned on the porch railing, sullenly watching them play.
"Hello, Lucas," Mia said. Luke only glared at the cards on the small table.
"Luke!" Liz cried as she swept the cards to the side. "Play Dominoes!" she said, grabbing the box of dominoes beside her.
Luke rolled his eyes.
"You have things under control here if I step inside for a while?" Mia queried, shooting Luke a sympathetic smile. Liz and her game playing techniques left much to be desired for all of her opponents, and only the most patient of players could keep up with the girl’s constant rule changing and improvisational moves. Luke nodded in resignation.
Mia stood up and gave Luke a quick peck on the forehead, feeling him flinch as she made contact with him. "See you later, Lizzie," Mia said brightly, "I bow to your superior Slap Jack skills."
"Yup!" Liz exclaimed, not looking up from the dominoes she was now dividing up between herself and Luke.
As Mia went into the house, Luke idly began standing the dominoes upright. Liz followed suit, happily acquiescing to the Knock 'Em Down version of Dominoes that Luke was initiating.
"I had apple pie," Liz informed Luke. "With ice cream, too."
Luke nodded, concentrating on the wooden tiles before him.
"Did you have pie?" Liz asked, worried that her big brother might have gained access to a more impressive dessert that she hadn't been made aware of.
Luke shook his head.
"Why not?" Liz queried.
Luke shrugged.
"But, there's PIE, dummy," she said. "You eat pie when there's pie to eat."
Luke shot his sister a withering look.
Liz scrunched her nose up at her brother. "You're grumpy," she surmised.
He grabbed more tiles and curved his row of upright dominoes around into a second row. Liz concentrated on doing the same. Both children fell silent as their respective rows of dominoes crept closer.
"Mia made s'ghetti pie," Liz said, trying to make conversation.
He nodded.
"I had s'ghetti pie AFTER I had apple pie." Liz giggled.
Luke shook his head, annoyed with his yammering sister.
"When's Mommy coming home?" Liz looked expectantly at Luke.
He jerked involuntarily at Liz's question, jarring the table and knocking most of the dominoes over.
Liz gasped. "We almost made it that time," she whispered sadly.
Luke jumped up, anger dancing across his face.
"Where you going'?" Liz asked. "Is it time to get Mommy now?"
"Shut up!" Luke bellowed.
Liz sniffled, tears welling in her eyes at her brother's sudden outburst.
"I'm telling Mommy you're being a big jerk again.”
"You're an idiot," Luke raged. "Mom's dead. They took her out of here in a bag, you dumbass. Where do you think she went? She's dead. She's not visiting Grandma. She's in a hole in the ground. So stop asking stupid questions, already. She's not coming back, so get used to it, asswipe." Luke spun around, intending to storm down the porch steps to... somewhere else. Instead he ran face-first into his father's stomach.
Luke tried to pull back, but his father held him tight against him.
"What did I tell you about the swears, kid?" William growled. He rubbed his son's shoulder. Luke sank into his father's embrace, fighting the angry tears that were again threatening to flow.
"You going to talk to me now?" William pressed, hoping Luke was ready to open up finally.
Luke jerked away from his father suddenly, glaring up at him.
"Stubborn as a mule, aren't you?" William sighed when Luke stomped down the porch steps and disappeared around the corner of the house.
William sat down wearily on the steps. He wasn't going to budge until the boy came to him. He leaned up against the railing and closed his eyes, expecting to be waiting for quite a while. He didn't notice the guests who quietly made their way around him as they left, trying not to disturb the grieving man. He didn't notice Mia usher Liz back into the house, luring her with promises of more pie. He had no idea when he actually fell asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, it was dark, and everything was quiet. William sat up with a start, wondering if Luke had even come home yet and if not, where in the hell had he gone?
As William leapt to his feet, he caught a glimpse of a form next to him. He let out a relieved sigh and realized Luke had been sitting next to him all along. William lowered himself back down on the step and looked his son over. He cautiously reached over and put his arm around the boy, not wanting to send him running away again. Luke stiffened but relaxed after a bit.
"Sorry," Luke whispered, idly poking the step below him with a stick. He didn't look at William. His eyes were red and swollen, and William could see the tell-tale evidence of the tracks Luke's recently shed tears had taken.
William shrugged. "Get out of jail free ticket," he said. "Just ease up on the swears, already. You're going to have your sister cussing like a sailor before she learns to tie her shoelaces."
Luke snorted. "Dummy's never gonna figure out how to tie her shoelaces," he said.
William laughed. "We'll have to work on that," he admitted to Luke. "Bunny Ears method seems to be a bust."
Luke let out a guffaw. "Duct tape!"
William laughed harder. "We'll hollow out a couple of duck decoys, tell everyone she's from Holland.”
"Make her wear your skis," Luke said and doubled over with laughter.
"Shellac her socks and tell her to stay away from puddles," William choked out, collapsing onto his back in laughter. Luke followed suit. The pair rocked back and forth, convulsing with giggles for several minutes.
William finally regained self-control and sat up, wiping away the tears that had squeezed their way out. "That felt good.”
Luke sat up next to his father. "Yeah," he agreed and swiped at his nose with his sleeve.
William sighed. "Think we can handle this?" he asked. He pulled Luke's arm away from his nose, and handed him a handkerchief
Luke shrugged. "I dunno," he said and wiped his nose with the hanky.
"I don't think we have a choice here," William said. "I need your help, squirt. I can't do all this on my own."
Luke nodded. "I'll try.”
"Thanks, kid." William tousled Luke's hair. They sat together in silence for a long time, contemplating the fireflies and moths that flew around their heads. William finally broke the silence. "Did you see her go?" he asked.
Luke looked warily at his father. He nodded and looked down at his shoes, fidgeting with his shoelaces.
"Was she okay?" William whispered, pain etched on his face.
Luke cocked his head to the side, still playing with his shoelaces. William could see his furrowed brow and rubbed his back, encouraging Luke on.
"She said she was sorry," Luke said.
William drew in his breath sharply. "Did you tell her not to worry about that?"
Luke nodded. "I told her you wouldn't be mad."
William moaned softly, stunned that a little boy who couldn't remember not to snot up his shirtsleeves had coached a dying woman through her final moments.
Luke's head suddenly snapped up. "You aren't mad at her, are you?" he asked, worry creasing his forehead.
"No!" William exclaimed. "I'm not mad at her. I just wish... I wish I could have said goodbye. I wish you didn't have to deal with that all alone."
Luke scrunched up his nose, trying to hide his discomfort. "She just went to sleep," he said.
William contemplated his son, awe-struck. "Were you scared?"
"Yeah," Luke said.
William stroked his son's cheek. "I would have been scared, too," he assured the boy.
Luke looked up, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"
"Yup," William nodded. "You should have come and woke me up."
Luke sighed. "I know."
"It's okay that you didn't though," William said reassuringly. "You did good by your Mom."
"I did?" Luke whispered, relief swimming in his eyes. William swept Luke up into a big bear hug.
"Yeah, kid, you did." William sighed. "You're something else, you know that?"
"Can't breathe," Luke wheezed, his voice muffled.William set his son free from his embrace and stood up.
"Come on," he grunted at Luke, holding his hand out for his son. "We've got some shellacking to do tonight."
Luke let his father lead him back into the house. "What about the decoys?"
"Next week's project," William said. "Right after we figure out how to make spaghetti pie."
Drudgery
"Lizzie, come out here and set the table," Luke yelled, stirring the contents of the pot before him with a large spoon in his right hand. He scrutinized the textbook he held in his left and walked out into the living room when it became apparent that Liz wasn't interested in responding to him. Liz was slumped on the couch, sullenly watching the evening news. "Come on, Lizzie, food's almost ready and dad'll be home in a minute, give me a hand, will you?"
Liz groaned. "Keep your panties on, Betty Crocker."
"Now, Liz.”
"I'm not eating here, anyway, I don't know why you're cooking for twenty people," Liz said.
"Where do you think you're going?" Luke queried, eyebrow raised. "You're grounded, remember?"
Liz laughed. "God, you really think I'm going to stay home because you grounded me?" she asked. "You really are delusional."
Luke shrugged. "Fine, don't listen to me. Dad'll take one look at your report card and either way, you're going to be cooling your heels in your bedroom tonight. Table, now."
Liz followed Luke, pulling dinner plates from the cabinet and making her way to the table. "I don't know when Dad is finally going to break it to you, Lucas," she muttered as she slammed a plate onto the table. "But you are not my mother."
Luke slid a pan full of sliced Italian bread into the broiler compartment in the stove. "How the hell did you manage to get an 'F' in Phys. Ed., anyway?" Luke peeked in the top door of the oven, checking the status of the food there.
Liz let a handful of silverware clatter loudly to the tabletop. "Not your concern," she said.
Luke stirred the sauce in the large pot before him. "And the 'F' in Home Ec.? Button sewing and brownie making fly right over your head?"
Liz slammed a pair of drinking glasses down onto the table, not responding.
"Son of a bitch!" Luke spun around to face Liz. "Will you knock it the fuck off already?" he bellowed, just as he noticed William leaning in the doorframe, silently observing his bickering offspring. Luke swallowed hard and turned silently back to the stove.
"Quite the classy meal-time conversation you two have going," William said.
Liz smiled cheerfully at William and walked over to give him a peck on the cheek.
"Hi Daddy," she said." "Taylor Doose said that he's going to fine Luke for public indecency if he opens his mouth around him again."
William fixed a steely gaze upon his only daughter. "Two 'F's?"
"Three," Luke shot over his shoulder. "Three 'D's, too."
"Go get your report card, Lizzie." William groaned. Liz shot Luke an icy glare and went to retrieve the problematic document. He looked at Luke who was preoccupied with a handful of fettuccini noodles. "Where's yours?"
Luke nodded absentmindedly toward the shelf by William's head. William retrieved the report card, and reviewed Luke's grades. "Pretty damn good," he muttered. "You really turned it around this year, good deal." Luke shot William a crooked grin.
Liz stomped back into the kitchen and thrust her report card into her father's hand. William opened up the document and frowned as he scanned the page.
"Liz, for Christ's sake, are you even trying?"
Liz stared sulkily at her shoes, not replying.
Luke turned off the burners on the stove. "Would help if she ever showed up to any of her classes," he said.
Liz whipped around to face Luke. "Butt out, jerk, this isn't any of your business."
He walked over to Liz, towering over her as he intensified his lecture. "What am I supposed to do, sit back and ignore the fact that your entire high school career consists of smoking in the girl's bathroom and hanging out under the bleachers with the stoners?"
Liz stared at Luke, red with anger. "You know what? Rachel really needs to unclench and start putting out. If you don't get laid soon, your head is going to explode," she said.
"Sorry, the only sure bets at Stars Hollow High are you and Crazy Carrie, and I don't think I'm going to go down either of those roads any time soon," he said.
"Asshole.”
"Slut.”
"Enough!" William shouted, pounding his fist emphatically on the wall. Liz and Luke clamped their mouths shut and stared at their father.
"Liz, go to your room, Luke, cease and desist with the gutter talk, unless you want the business end of my belt.” Liz stomped out of the kitchen, but instead of going to her room, she grabbed her jacket and ran out through the front door. William watched in amazement. "That went well.”
Luke sighed. "Hungry?" he asked, grabbing the pot of noodles and pouring out the boiling water.
William picked up a plate and walked over to Luke, allowing his son to dish out the chow.
Luke filled his own plate and followed his father to the table. Both ate their meals in silence.
"Gotta lighten up on her, Lucas," William finally said.
Luke looked up sharply. "Lighten up on her? If we lighten up on her any more, the spazz is going to float off the face of the earth.”
"It's rough for her," William said. "She's growing up without a mother, she lives on the fringes of our little boys' club, and she just hasn't found her place yet.”
Luke played with the remains of his meal. "It's rough for everyone," he said. "Neither one of us ended up turning to a life of crime because Mom died, why should we let Liz do it?"
William laughed dryly. "You have to admit, things are a little different for Liz. I'm pretty sure no one else in school gets grounded by their brother on a regular basis."
Luke shrugged. He didn't see his father’s point.
William continued, "You aren't so easy to keep on the straight and narrow yourself, kid. Had to practically beat you to get you to start taking school seriously, and I've about run out of ways to get you to knock it off with the swears, already."
"Sorry.”
William wrinkled his nose. "Is something burning?"
"Shit!" Luke hollered and leapt to his feet. He ran over to the stove, grabbed a potholder, and yanked the pan of blackened bread out of the broiler.
"Shit!" he yelped again, the heat coming right through the potholder and burning his fingers as he dumped the bread into the garbage. "Crap." He flung the offending pan into the sink and jammed his burnt fingers into his mouth.
William shook his head in amused defeat. "Language, Luke.”
"Damn it, I said I was sorry.”
William laughed. "You're hopeless. How much is that fine Taylor was threatening you with? I'll have to start saving up now, I guess." Silently, Luke started to clean up the mess he had made. "Leave it," William said. "We'll clean up later."
Luke nodded. The pair made their way to the living room and William slumped into his chair while Luke stood in the middle of the room, contemplating his father.
"What's up?"
"Can I talk to you about something?" Luke asked warily.
"Sure," William agreed, sitting up a little.
Luke left the room for a moment, and returned with some papers in his hand. "Can you look at these?" William took the papers and pulled out his reading glasses. Luke paced as he waited for a reaction.
William grunted. "College? You're still a junior. You're looking at admissions forms now?"
"I figured I'd better talk to you, see if it was even, you know, an option?"
William ran his hand through his hair. "Money is pretty... tight around here, you know."
"I know.”
"Why these schools?" William asked, noting that most of the packets were from out of state colleges.
"Scholarship programs," Luke explained.
"Track?"
"Some," Luke said. "Mostly baseball."
William nodded. "You've got a great arm. I think you have a shot," he said.
Luke grinned shyly. "So you think I should go for it?"
"Yeah, kid, you should go for it. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, but if you and your coach think you can pull this off, I'd be an idiot to shit on the idea."
"Watch the swears," Luke said.
"This sudden interest in spreading your wings have anything to do with Miss Rachel?" William asked, a smile playing on his lips.
Luke ducked his head in embarrassment. "What do you mean?"
"That girl isn't long for this one-horse town," William said. "You thinking of going all modern and following her across the country after you two graduate?"
Luke shrugged. "I wouldn't say that."
William frowned at his son. "You'd better think about it," he said. "That girl is restless. Sweet, but restless. You're not a rolling stone, kid. You have roots." He raised his hand as Luke tried to interject. "I'm not saying anything against your relationship with her. I'm just warning you to keep your eyes open. You may be itching to fly the coop, but how far are you really willing to go?"
"I don't want to be stuck in Stars Hollow my entire life."
William nodded. "But eventually you're going to want to find a place to roost. Do you think Rachel will ever settle down?"
Luke stared at his father thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said.
William fidgeted, not wanting to upset his son. He knew the boy was already worried about Rachel's obvious wanderlust, but he also knew Luke was pretty well whipped when it came to the free-spirited girl. He followed Rachel around like a lovesick pup, and William was still rather surprised to find that his usually sarcastic, prickly son could be reduced to doing an imitation of a bowl of Jell-O by just a casual flip of the hair from this particular girl.
William had already broken up quite a few heavy make out sessions on the nights he worked late, and while he was glad to see that Luke seemed to be attentive and gentle with the girl, he was worried about how far Luke had allowed his passions to already take him. Luke was definitely deep in the throes of his first big love, and he didn't want to see the boy get hurt or screw up his chances to strike out on his own. William cleared his throat. "So how long have you two been dating now?"
"Year and a half next week," Luke said.
William smiled. "That's a lifetime in terms of high school romances. Liz has yet to make it to a whole month with her boyfriends."
"But it only takes one date for her to just make it with them," Luke shot back.
William flinched. "I'm having enough issues trying to rein the girl in. Let me have some plausible deniability here, kid."
"Not going to be able to fall back on plausible deniability when she gets herself knocked up," Luke growled. William gave his son a stern look and Luke wisely decided to stop bashing his troubled sister.
"What about you?" William asked, not really wanting to know.
"What do you mean?" Luke shifted from one foot to the other.
"You and Rachel," William said. "A year and a half. You want me to believe that after a year and a half you two are still just holding hands?"
Luke ducked his head in embarrassment.
William sighed. "Are you two... using, uh... protection?"
Luke stared at his shoes. "We're safe," he mumbled.
"You love her?" William asked, studying Luke's face.
Luke sat wearily on the couch. "Yeah.”
William nodded. "You treat her right, then, boy," he said. "You made a very grown-up decision to go down this path, you need to man up and do right by her. You're responsible for the consequences of your choices, no matter how unpleasant they may ultimately turn out to be."
Luke looked quizzically at his father. "Not holding out much hope for us, are you
"Just being realistic," William said. "First loves can be a bitch."
"Maybe she's it for me.”
"If she turns out to be, you're a lucky guy," William said. "I just don't want to see you get your heart broken if things don't work out."
"Don't worry about it," Luke assured his father. "I've got it all worked out. I'm going to get a scholarship, go to college, Rachel's got her heart set on some artsy fartsy school in Chicago, and she'll get in, you've seen her photographs, she's got talent. We'll graduate, get married, and find a middle ground so she can do her thing, and I can get a decent job. We've talked about it already, we have it planned out. I'll get some kind of business degree, so I can help you get the store running the way it should be, and you could retire. I'll get a good job so I can send you money so you don't have to worry about stupid shit like clipping coupons and watching the thermostat anymore. I've got your back, Dad, that's why I'm going to college. I'm not going to just up and leave, I'm going to make sure you'll be okay, too. If I stay here, I can't do that. I don't want to spend my life rotting in this town. I'm not a hardware store kind of guy. We spent our lives scrimping and scraping to just barely get by, I want more than that. I want you to have more than that, and if I do this, I can do it all. You'll see, it's all going to work out great." Luke took a deep breath, winded from his sudden rant.
William blinked. He was alternately stunned by the boy's naiveté, and awed by his son's intentions. William knew that a lot of Luke's plans were pipe dreams, but the mere fact that Luke was so intent on taking care of everyone in his life was enough to break his heart. He couldn't figure out how he could have gone so wrong with his rebellious daughter, unable to get her to calm down, straighten up, or to demonstrate even a modicum of responsibility or concern for anyone other herself, but still end up with such an incredible, upstanding son. Luke had his rebellious stage in his early teens, complete with skateboards, an occasional pilfered cigarette, juvenile stunts involving toilet paper , eggs, and soap, and a really ugly incident with six pack of beer, but Luke had learned quickly enough that he preferred a life that didn't include regular appointments between his ass and William's belt, and had mellowed out considerably in the last couple of years. Liz however, William fretted, had a long way to go before she ever got her head on straight.
William stood up and walked over to Luke, giving the boy a pat on the head as he made his way to the kitchen. "I'll do the dishes tonight, you get upstairs and finish studying," William said over his shoulder. Luke nodded, grabbed his books and made his way toward his bedroom.
William watched Luke climb the stairs and sighed. He hoped Luke could find a way to make his dreams come true, but William was a realist. All it took was one bad break in life, and Luke's house of cards would collapse on itself. William could only hope that Luke had strength enough to weather the storms that may come his way. He had a feeling that the biggest storm would be Rachel breaking his son's heart. She was a good girl, but the young couple were both only sixteen, and William knew that hearts are fickle at that age. He was worried that Rachel's aspirations would be the undoing of their relationship. William shook his head, hoping for Luke's sake that he was wrong.
The kid deserved a break, William knew. Luke graduated from high school in only a year. All he needed was one more year free of any major road bumps. If William could keep the store running, keep Liz in check, keep the bills paid, keep everybody healthy for just one more year, he could send his boy out into the world, free to make the most of his potential. Hell, the way the kid pitched, he could go pro easily, William thought proudly. Luke had essentially given up his childhood to try and fill the void left by his mother's passing. It was time for him to get his life back, and William was going to do everything in his power to make sure he could pay his boy back for everything he had ever done for him.
All he needed was one more year of smooth sailing. William nodded confidently to himself. It wasn't such a tall order, was it? He could make this happen for Luke, he was sure of it.
Vexation
William poked his head into his office. "Hey Luke, did you put those router bits that Buddy wanted on the last order?"
Luke nodded distractedly. "Yeah," he muttered. "They should be in end of next week."
"How are the numbers crunching this month?" William asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Luke turned to face his father, brow furrowed. "Looks like we made eight bucks," he grumbled.
William sighed. "Well, I guess it's better than losing eight bucks this month," he rationalized.
Luke slid the calculator away and picked up his pencil to make a notation in William's logbook. "We should take the profits and head to Atlantic City," he said dryly. "Maybe we'll have a lucky streak and be able to turn it into at least twenty bucks."
William chuckled. "Think big, boy, we could turn it into forty dollars, easy."
Luke laughed. He turned back to the desk, but lost his grip on his pencil. Luke groaned as it clattered to the floor. Luke started to lean forward to pick the pencil up, but stopped short as a bolt of pain shot through his right arm.
William walked quickly over to Luke. "I'll get it, kid," he said.
Luke glared at the pencil as William handed it to him. "I'm not getting any better with the left-handed stuff," Luke complained.
William nodded sympathetically. "You know what the doctor said, though, absolutely no movement with that right arm for at least another month."
Luke scowled silently at the arm sling he was wearing. William felt a wave of sympathy as he regarded the miserable expression on his son's face. Luke had been in a foul mood for weeks, and William couldn't blame him one bit. Two days after Luke had wowed scouts from Pepperdine, Southern Cal, and Oregon State with a deadly 97 mile per hour fastball, he blew out his rotator cuff in practice. The recruiters suddenly disappeared, the tear that x-rays showed was severe enough to warrant surgery on Luke's shoulder, and Luke was benched for remainder of his last season, giving him plenty of time to allow the awareness that he wasn't going to college, that he wasn't ever going to go pro, and that he wasn't leaving Stars Hollow sink in. The team had choked without Luke's ability to prevent most opposing batters from ever even making it to first base, and had quickly fallen out of contention for anything other than a "We Can Tie Our Shoelaces On Our Own" honorable mention.
William walked over to the small fridge he kept in his office while Luke struggled to finish up the bookkeeping with his left hand. He grabbed a couple of beers, popped the tops and walked back to Luke. Luke looked up and cocked an eyebrow suspiciously at the beer his father was offering him.
"Is this a trick?" Luke asked warily.
William snorted. "Just take it, already, you've earned a break."
Luke smiled and took the can from his father, taking a swig of the cold brew.
"So let me get this straight, you find my empties, I get my ass kicked, but I sort out your books, and we're drinking buddies. No wonder Liz and I are total basket cases," Luke grinned.
William shook his head and took a long drink from his can. "Liz is a basket case because she's certifiable. You're a basket case because you, my boy, have legendarily rotten luck. My piss poor parenting skills are only superficial influences in your mutual weirdness. I blame your mother's gene pool for most of the problems."
"I think Mom would take offense to that," Luke replied.
"Your mother would drag me to Louie's and just point at him as her defense of her DNA," William grunted.
"It would be a rock-solid argument, and you know it," Luke chuckled.
William shrugged. "Every family has its fair share of turds," he laughed.
"Louie and Liz, two turds in a toilet," Luke guffawed.
"Stop it," William growled, trying not to laugh. "Lizzie isn't a turd, she's just a late bloomer, and a victim of her surroundings. Too much testosterone under one roof. She won't have a fighting chance until she gets out into the real world and realizes how incompetent you and I were at playing joint heads-of-household. One day she'll learn that socks don't get washed in dishwashers, that televisions show things other than baseball games, and that jumper cables are not appropriate gifts for girls, especially girls who don't own a car."
Luke grunted. "She's still breathing isn't she? We weren't sucky enough to kill her, at least."
"Need I remind you that we poisoned her entire kindergarten class with the chicken salad we sent for her first school party?" William pointed out.
"We worked out the kinks," Luke noted.
"We also sent her to school with the chicken pox." William remembered. "We took out half the town because we didn't think that red spots could mean something bad. I got called into the principal's office because I started an epidemic, she was so worked up, I thought I was going to either get arrested, or have Child Protective Services knocking on our door."
Luke shrugged. "We improved overall attendance in the long run. Everyone got the chicken pox at once, instead of a couple kids every year. We did 'em a favor."
William sighed and sank down into the nearest chair. "She needed her mother. She lost out on a lot not having Gracie around."
Luke remained silent, tapping his pencil distractedly on the edge of the desk.
William sized Luke up. "You missed out, too. She would have done better by you than I did. She wouldn't have let you be in the position of having to hinge any hope of higher education on your cleats, like I let happen. She would have had you turning down Ivy League schools left and right. Gracie'd clobber me if she saw us right now," he said sadly.
Luke sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong. I screwed this up on my own. I pushed too hard, showed off too much, and I blew it all on my own. Coach kept telling me to ease up, and I kept pushing. I got cocky, and now all I have a busted up shoulder to show for it. It's my fault, not yours."
William eyed Luke warily. "Rachel settle on a school yet?" he asked, cringing as he remembered Rachel wasn't a topic that was going to cheer up the sullen boy.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Looks like it’s going to be wagons west," he grouched.
William sighed. "She's really going to California?"
"Yup," Luke grunted. He slouched back in his chair, wincing at the pain in his arm as he changed positions.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," William offered weakly.
Luke snorted. "Well, being present and accounted for isn't working, might as well try absence for a while."
"Still fighting?" William pressed.
Luke nodded.
"Why now?" William asked.
"Pick a reason. If I'm not being unsupportive, I'm being a drag. If I'm not being suffocating, I'm being distant. Can't seem to win with her, lately," Luke sighed.
"Maybe you two just need a breather," William suggested. "It's a stressful time for everyone. You feel like crap, you both have finals coming up to deal with, the school year is soon over, and you've both got to figure out your futures. It's a lot to deal with on top of trying to make a relationship work."
Luke shrugged miserably. "I think we're already taking a breather, Rachel just forgot to ask if I was okay with it."
"You think you're going to break up?" William asked, noting the pained expression on Luke's face.
Luke nodded. "We pretty much already are, she just hasn't given the final word yet. Rachel doesn't like to make the tough decisions, she just likes to leave."
William sighed. "Want another beer?"
Luke looked at his father. "That and a sledgehammer upside my head. That ought to do the trick."
William shook his head as he stood up. "Sorry, I don't have any sledgehammers in stock. I only made eight dollars this month and that won't even cover shipping."
Luke laughed dryly. "Well, one thing's for sure," he grunted.
"What's that?" William asked as he retrieved two more cans of beer.
"Can't get any worse than this," Luke stated.
William sat down next to Luke again and opened the beers, sliding one toward Luke.
Luke regarded his father curiously.
"What?" William asked.
"That was your cue to agree with me," Luke explained.
William nodded thoughtfully, staring out the window.
"Uh-oh," Luke sighed.
"Yeah," William agreed.
"Should I polish off this beer before I ask what's up now?" Luke asked warily as William raised his beer as a sign to drink up.
Luke and William both chugged their beers until their respective cans were empty.
Luke belched loudly, "Soo..." he encouraged his father.
"Soo..." William stalled, letting out a belch of his own.
"Dad," Luke warned.
William let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, as long as we're crawling around at rock bottom here, I guess I should tell you I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, had some routine tests done."
"And?" Luke asked, concern written on his face.
"And, there were some things the doctor didn't like, so I went back," William explained.
"Christ, Dad, what?" Luke asked, his voice going up an octave.
William played absent-mindedly with the calculator on the desk, avoiding Luke's gaze.
"They sort of found a mass," William explained quietly.
"A mass? A mass of what?" Luke hissed frantically.
"I had a biopsy done. I have a tumor," William stated more calmly than he actually felt.
"Biopsy," Luke parroted. "Tumor."
William nodded, waiting for Luke to catch up.
Luke cleared his throat loudly. "Tumor. Is it...do you...cancer?" Luke grasped desperately for words.
William gritted his teeth. "It's malignant," he whispered.
"Malignant," Luke repeated, eyes wide. His face was ashen.
"Cancer," William explained.
"Cancer," Luke whispered back.
The Danes men sat quietly, both lost in their own thoughts.
"What's going on in there?" William asked, breaking the heavy silence by leaning over and giving Luke a light slap on the back of his head..
Luke looked at his father, a grim expression on his face. "Fuck," he stated simply.
"Fuck, indeed," William agreed.
Reversal
"So what do you think, Lucas, any hope for survival?" Mia asked.
Luke shook his head. "It's not looking too great, Mia, I don't think there's many other options at this point."
Mia sighed. "Are you sure?"
Luke scrunched up his nose at the mess before him. "Yeah, you're pretty much S.O.L. if you think you can get out of this without totally replacing them."
Mia groaned. "Do you have any idea how much money I put into having this roof replaced last spring? I'm not going to be able to even consider replacing windows until after the summer rush."
Luke contemplated the hole in the wall that, until recently, housed the window that was leaning against the bed. "Listen," Luke offered. "I can't do a lot of work all at once, with the store and all, but I can try to get in here and replace these one by one. It'll save you a crapload of money, and you only need to pay for the actual supplies, but it'll take me a while. I could do it a lot faster if there wasn't so much water damage here around the frame. That rotten wood is going to have to be pulled out and replaced. It'll take me a whole day at a time just to do that. But, if you're patient, I can do it," he stated with a sigh.
"Do I need to still replace the windows then?" Mia asked hopefully.
Luke narrowed his eyes at Mia. "Yesss," he said, trying to be patient. "Those windows are why you have a big hole in your wall right now, they're crap."
"All right," Mia sighed. "But I'm going to give you something for the work."
Luke raised his hand. "No way, I'm not charging you for the work. You just supply the materials, that's all."
"Lucas," Mia argued. "You're getting something in return for helping me out. I can imagine that you doing this for me with save me hundreds of dollars when all is said and done. You take the money, and help out Bill, okay?"
Luke fingered the screwdriver he was holding and nodded, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He hated taking handouts, but money was tight, and William's health insurance wasn't making a good enough dent in the medical bills that were piling up at home. "You going to Liz's graduation tomorrow?" he asked, changing the subject.
Mia rubbed Luke's arm, knowing how uncomfortable he was discussing anything having to do with his father's lengthy illness. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," she exclaimed.
"Yeah," Luke said, rolling his eyes. "It ought to be a hoot."
"Oh, stop it, Lucas," Mia laughed. "She finally made it, you should be at least a little proud of the fact that she's getting out with a diploma, and not an 'Expelled' slip."
"Who would have thunk it?" Luke laughed.
"I'll leave you to your work, Lucas, and thank you, once again you've come through for me," Mia praised, giving Luke a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to make her way back to the front desk of the Independence Inn.
Luke worked the window back into the frame, rigging up temporary protection from the elements until he could return with everything he needed to make the proper repairs. He got home just as the sun was beginning to set over Stars Hollow.
"Dad?" Luke hollered as he made his way into the living room.
"Hey, kid," William greeted Luke.
Luke looked his father over. He had lost at least 30 pounds over the last year alone, and looked old and frail, sitting in his beat up armchair.
William grunted. "Still alive," he pointed out.
Luke grimaced. "Not funny," he replied. "Where's Liz?"
"Upstairs," William said, eyes returning to the television set.
Luke craned his neck in the direction of the kitchen and sighed. "I gotta check on something, I'll be down in a second," he told his father as he climbed the stairs.
Luke knocked on Liz's bedroom door and yelled her name, trying to be heard over the music thumping away behind the door.
"Lizzie!" Luke shouted, pounding now on the door. Still, no answer. Luke finally opened the door a crack and yelled into the room. "What the hell, are you deaf?"
Liz shut the stereo off and walked to her door. "What's wrong with you," she grumbled. "Don't you knock?"
"What do you think I've been doing for five minutes?" Luke growled.
Liz shrugged. "So what do you want?"
"What's for dinner?" Luke asked pointedly.
Liz looked at Luke, confused. "I don't know, what are you making?"
Luke kicked the door in disgust. "Christ, can't you do anything?" he muttered.
"What?" Liz asked defensively.
"I've been working all day, Dad's still not up to doing much of anything, and you couldn't even be bothered with throwing a frozen pizza in the oven?" Luke asked in amazement.
"You're the Betty Crocker around here, not me," Liz stated, flopping back onto her bed, dismissing Luke with a wave of her hand.
"Unbelievable," Luke muttered stomping back down the stairs and toward the kitchen. Luke grabbed some random vegetables out of the refrigerator, and pulled some chicken breasts out of the freezer. He filled up a large pot with hot tap water and threw the chicken in, willing the birds to defrost quickly.
William shuffled into the kitchen to find Luke bent over the counter, head buried in his arms. "You cooking?" he asked, ignoring the obvious clues that hinted to Luke's clear intention to indeed cook.
Luke yawned. "Yes," he sighed into his arm.
William pulled a chair back from the kitchen table and sat down. "What are you making?" he asked conversationally.
Luke remained slumped over the counter. "I have no idea," he groaned.
"I'm sorry," William apologized.
Luke raised his head and looked over his shoulder at his father. "For what?"
William shrugged wearily. "For all of it," he said quietly.
"Nothing to apologize for," Luke grunted.
"You're busting your ass here, Luke," William reminded him. "You're doing all the work, and I can't even get my ass in gear long enough to throw together a simple meal."
Luke shook his head. "You're sick. You're not supposed to be doing anything other than getting well. It would be nice if Liz would get HER ass in gear and contribute around here."
"She's too wrapped up in that new boyfriend of hers to worry about us old farts," William responded.
Luke rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.
William raised his hands in protest. "Not one more 'my sister is easy' comment, I may not be able to chase you down with the belt anymore, but I can find ways to make your life a living hell," he said reproachfully. Luke pulled the chicken out of the pot of water, and decided it was as close to defrosted as it was ever going to be.
"Cross your fingers," Luke shot over his shoulder at his father. "I'm going to try to put something edible together here."
William laughed. "You're too hard on yourself. You've become quite the gourmet over the years. You're getting a reputation around this town. Last time Maize and Buddy dropped by, they ate some of that pie you made, and both of them thought you should go into business.
Luke chuckled as he chopped up some vegetables. "Yeah, why don't I turn the hardware store into a restaurant? Call it 'Luke's Bistro', and serve my best dishes. I'll make a mint," he joked. Luke eyed the fruit bowl for a moment, and grabbed a couple of apples, chopping them up as well. He tossed a hunk of the fruit into his mouth, and walked a slice over to his father.
William looked at the fruit warily. "Apples?" he queried, taking a bite, and watching Luke mix the fruit and vegetables together and dump them into a large bowl.
Luke shrugged. "It's an experiment," he admitted. "If I'm right, the apple won't be obvious, they'll just add an interesting vibe to the crap I have here." Luke sliced the chicken into strips and flung them into the frying pan.
"Don't cook too much, I'm still lucky if I can get three bites of food in me before I fill up," William warned.
Luke looked at his father. "You need to eat more, get your strength up."
"I'm trying," William argued.
"Try harder," Luke scolded, attacking his impromptu stir-fry with a spatula.
"Yes sir," William retorted. "Crap," he muttered.
"What?" Luke asked, concerned.
"I have to use the...uh, restroom," William replied, looking embarrassed.
"Need a hand getting there?" Luke asked, turning the flame under their dinner down.
"Yeah," William groaned. "I used up my excess energy to wobble out here."
Luke plastered a smile on his face and walked over to the table, leaning over to help his father to his feet. He winced as he felt his father tremble from the effort of standing. "Ready, Pop?" Luke asked as he wrapped his arm around William, clutching his hand for added support.
"I think so," William said, puffing already from the effort of getting to his feet.
"Don't worry, I got your back," Luke said quietly, as he steered his father toward their destination.
"Yeah, I noticed," William said gratefully.
Two hours later, Luke flopped onto the couch, exhausted. He had gotten his father to bed, the kitchen was cleaned up, the living room was now back to an almost presentable level of disarray, and Luke was beat. He was almost asleep when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Luke looked up to see Liz standing on their stairs, a bag in her hand.
"What are you up to?" Luke asked suspiciously.
"Just taking some stuff out to my car," Liz grumbled, annoyed that she had been caught.
Luke sat up and fixed his gaze on the bag Liz was trying to shove behind her.
"What stuff?" he asked, trying to figure out what Liz was up to.
Liz clenched her teeth. "As usual, none of your business," she seethed.
Luke stood up, and walked to the front door, blocking Liz's escape route.
"Make it my business," Luke said tersely.
Liz sighed. "It's my clothing, okay?"
Luke looked at Liz quizzically. "Where are you taking your clothes?"
Liz straightened herself up to her full height, jutting out her chin. "To Jimmy's"
Luke groaned. That loser again. "And why are you doing that? Oh my God, you aren't moving in with that moron are you?" Luke asked, suddenly realizing what Liz was up to.
"We're going to New York actually, we're leaving right after graduation," Liz declared.
"No, you're not!" Luke exclaimed, caught completely off guard by his sister's intentions. "What about Dad? Are you actually just going to bail on us? Did you even tell him you wanted to leave? Or were you just going to let him figure it out on his own, when you suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet? Jesus Christ, you're the most selfish jerk I've ever met in my life, Lizzie. Dad's sick, the store is going under, and we can barely keep the roof over our heads as it is, and you're just going to go run off to New York? What's your big plan once you get there? Join the cast of 'Cats'? Go all fruity and bohemian and live in a cardboard box in Greenwich Village? Sell fake Rolexes in Times Square? What's Jimmy's big plan here, huh? Does he have a job lined up? Is he going to support you with his promising career of Fry-Boy at McDonald's? Is that what you want? Well, fine, go, rot in New York. I don't give a shit anymore. You go worry about yourself, it's the only thing you know how to do anyway. I'll stay here and take care of Dad, and you go do whatever the hell you want to do. Hey, maybe I'll send you a postcard if he doesn't make it, how about that? Just don't come crawling back here when it all blows up in your face, okay?" Luke yelled, gasping for air.
Liz stared at Luke, not very affected by his impassioned rant. "Are you done, now?" She asked wearily.
"Yes, I'm done now, I'm done with you, you asshole," Luke seethed. "Why don't you just leave now? Get it over with, get the hell out of here. Want the twenty five dollars Dad scraped together for your graduation card? Don't want you to run out of gas on your way to New York."
Liz shrugged. "Fine, I'll go then. What are you going to tell Dad?"
"I don't know, Liz, what the fuck should I tell him?" Luke asked bitterly.
Liz laughed humorlessly as she picked up her bag and opened the door. "Well, whatever you do, don't tell him I'm pregnant, because I'm pretty sure he won't be happy to find out that he's going to be a Grandpa so soon. See ya, Luke, drop me a line if you ever get that two by four you have wedged up your ass surgically removed." Liz smiled triumphantly at the shocked expression on Luke's face, and she walked out through the door, slamming it behind her dramatically.
Luke could only stare at the door, unable to process what had just transpired. He turned slowly and walked to the kitchen. Luke looked around the room distractedly, and went to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer. He sat down at the table, and drank the beer slowly, his mind churning, trying to figure out how to break Liz's news to his father. Luke groaned. He knew William wasn't going to be as upset about the pregnancy as he would about the fact that Liz had just up and left. William was nearly obsessive in his defense of his youngest child. Luke and William were constantly butting heads over Liz's approach to life, and one of William's worst shortcomings was his inability to accept how badly Liz had strayed. He let his guilt over his lack of being able to relate to his daughter cloud his judgment, and Luke was always on the verge of tearing his hair out over William's habit of excusing Liz's bad behavior as a symptom of growing up without a mother. Luke could only wonder what excuse his father was going to make for Liz now. In any case, Luke was now going to have to take on even more responsibility now that Liz was cutting out on them. Liz didn't bring much to the table in terms of helping out, but she at least could be wheedled into taking on a few shifts a week at the hardware store to allow Luke time to take William to the oncologist, or to go grocery shopping. Now Luke didn't even have that to count on. Luke sighed in defeat as he grabbed his father's box of pills, and began counting out the next day's dosages. He sighed again as he noticed that he was going to have to get four more bottles refilled tomorrow at some point. Luke grabbed a pen and notepad and jotted down the medications he needed to pick up. Luke glanced over at the bread box and realized there were only a couple of slices left in the bag behind the glass.
"Crap," Luke muttered as he flipped the page and started a grocery list. He wandered around the kitchen, noting all the food they needed to stock up on. Luke hadn't been to the grocery in two weeks, so supplies were low. As Luke finished up the grocery list, he grabbed the checkbook that was lying on the top of the breadbox, and flipped it open to see how much money they had to play with. Luke cursed silently under his breath, remembering that the checkbook hadn't been balanced since the last time he had gone to the store, so Luke grabbed a calculator, and set about balancing out the numbers. Luke finally got the checkbook up to date, stared at the final tally for a while, then grabbed the shopping list again, editing out the nonessentials so that he didn't go over the limit tomorrow. Luke threw the pen down at last and wearily scrubbed his face with his hands. He looked up at the clock on the wall and gasped as he saw it was almost 2:00 in the morning. He had to be at the store by 5:00 a.m. Luke felt a knot form in his gut, as he switched off the lights. He couldn't possibly make it on two hours sleep, there was just no way. Luke curled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes as hard as he could. He sat back down at the table, trying to choke back the near panic he felt inside.
"I can't do it," he whispered to himself, feeling the sting of tears of frustration trying to form in his eyes. Luke rubbed his eyes again, more fiercely this time, and buried his face in his hands. "Too much," he moaned as the tears finally won the battle Luke was waging to keep his emotions in check. "Too fucking much," he said and laid his head on the table, sobbing quietly in the darkness.
Reunion
Luke walked into the kitchen, eyes blazing. Maizie looked up from the sinkful of dishes she was trying to wash. "Another bust?" She asked, shooting Luke a sympathetic smile.
Luke shook his head, frustrated. "I've run out of ideas," he sighed.
"Did you try mashed potatoes?" Maizie offered hopefully.
Luke grimaced. "If I make mashed potatoes, he'll want applesauce. If I bring back the applesauce, he'll want yogurt. If I bring him some yogurt, he'll want a drink. Doesn't matter what I bring, he wants something different."
"What did he want instead of the applesauce?" Maizie asked, glancing at the bowl Luke was sticking back into the refrigerator.
Luke banged his head into the refrigerator to emphasize his current frustration. "Tacos," he groaned.
Maizie stifled a giggle. "Oh, dear," she smirked.
Luke leaned against the refrigerator, chuckling in defeat.
"It's the pills talking, you know that, right?" Maizie asked, grabbing a dishtowel off the kitchen table.
Luke nodded. "I know, I just didn't realize that morphine could be...I don't know, so mind numbingly irritating?"
"Why don't you go out tonight?" Maizie suggested. "Call that friend of yours, what's her name? Annie?"
"Anna," Luke corrected.
"How are things going with her?" Maizie queried.
Luke shrugged. "Okay, I guess, don't see her very often, she's nice enough, but I guess I don't see anything really long term happening there," he explained.
"No zing, huh?" Maizie asked.
Luke arched his eyebrow at Maizie.
"I'm just saying, you're not very subtle when you get bit by the love bug, Lucas," Maizie defended herself. "You see a girl that makes your heart go ping, and it's just obvious, that's all I meant by saying that. When you saw Rachel for the first time, you skated right into a tree and broke your nose. You're easily distracted by feminine wiles."
Luke groaned, hating to be subjected to a lecture about women by this particular woman. Once Maizie sunk her teeth into a topic, like Luke's love life, she wasn't letting go without a fight.
"I don't have TIME to get distracted by Anna's feminine...whatevers. We hang out occasionally, no big deal. She understands that I have to put Dad first, and she tolerates my inconsistent dating habits because of that. I appreciate her for understanding what's going on here," Luke tried to explain.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry I brought it up," Maizie sighed, backing down. "I just don't want to see you end up like your Uncle Louie, more apt to moon a woman who's pissed him off than offer her flowers."
Luke's face contorted with disgust. "I may be bad, but I'm never going to be THAT bad," he promised.
Maizie and Luke looked up as the doorbell rang. "Buddy close up the hardware store early?" Luke asked
Maizie shook her head. "He didn't say he was going to Maybe if you open the door, instead of staring in its general direction, you'll solve the mystery of who's doing the ringing," she said laughingly.
"Shut up, lady," Luke grumbled as he walked to the front door. Luke swung the door open, and his jaw dropped at the sight before him.
"Heyyyy, big brother!" Liz squealed, throwing her arms around Luke.
Luke didn't return her embrace. "What the hell are you doing here, Liz?" he asked, not kindly.
Liz stepped away from Luke, giving him an appraising once-over with her eyes. "You look like shit," she noted.
"Thanks," Luke replied.
Luke looked over Liz's shoulder as someone else ascended the stairs to the porch. "Who's this?"
"Aw, you remember Jimmy, don't you?" Liz laughed, "Come in, Jimbo, come meet my big brother."
Luke crossed his arms and glared at the bum Liz had dragged home.
"Hey, Luke, nice to meet you," Jimmy said, extending his hand to Luke.
Luke only grunted and turned away, walking to the center of the living room.
"Don't worry about him, he's always uptight," Liz muttered to Jimmy.
"Close the door," Luke said tersely. "Can't afford to heat the neighborhood.
Luke regarded the bundle in Jimmy's left arm. "What's that?" he asked gruffly.
Liz reached out for Jimmy's load. A crumpled up blanket fell back to reveal a child, fast asleep, thumb jammed in its mouth.
"This is my boy, Luke, your nephew," Liz smiled, offering the child to Luke.
Luke stepped back. "No way, nuh uh. I don't do kids."
"Don't be a moron, Lucas," Liz groaned. "His name is Jess."
"Jess?" Luke asked warily.
"Yup, come on, hold your nephew." she pleaded.
Luke took another step back. "Nope. Gotta run some food up to Dad, anyway, I'll be back in a minute."
Luke stomped out to the kitchen and rolled his eyes at Maizie. "Do me a favor, keep an eye on the slacker, make sure he doesn't try to steal the television while I'm gone. Maizie nodded, and went out to the living room to stand guard for Luke, as he made his way upstairs with the bowl of applesauce.
"Hey, Pop," Luke whispered, trying to tell whether William was really sleeping, or just zonked out on medication.
William stirred. "Hey, kid," he grunted weakly.
"Got some applesauce for you, want to give it a whirl?" Luke asked.
William wrinkled his nose. "Guess I don't have many other options right now, do I?"
"Sorry," Luke apologized, "We're running low on variety when it comes to food that you don't puke up within 30 seconds of swallowing."
"Yeah," William agreed. "Sorry about the jeans, earlier, by the way."
Luke laughed softly. "Don't worry, the way Maizie tells it, you have a lot more puking to do on me before we're even for all the times I yakked on you as a baby."
William nodded. "You definitely had issues with the projectile vomiting."
"Want to try it on your own, or do you need a hand?" Luke asked.
William struggled to sit up. Luke set the bowl down and helped his father slide into an upright position.
"I'll give it a shot," William decided.
Luke set the bowl on a tray, and lowered the tray over William's lap. William shakily picked up the spoon, his arm spasming uncontrollably.
"Doing okay?" Luke asked.
William pushed his spoon around the bowl for a moment, and finally let it clatter down onto the tray. He looked at Luke sorrowfully. "I can't kid, I can't deal with food right now."
Luke sighed. "It's okay, I just wish you would eat. You've barely eaten a thing in two days."
"Not hungry," William sighed wearily and slouched back down into his bed. Luke set the tray aside and sat on the bed next to his father, watching him shake. Luke pulled a blanket up around William's shoulders, noting that his father was already fast asleep again. He sighed heavily, and stared out the window, shaking off the deja vu that overtook him as he observed the grey skies above. That shade of grey was all too familiar. His father was in another hospital bed, just like the one his mother had spent her final days in, and here he was yet again, watching someone he loved slip away, slowly and painfully.
Luke picked up a Hospice pamphlet he had laid on the nightstand, out of his father's sight. He opened up the booklet, his nightly ritual now including obsessively going over the checklist of signs that a terminally ill patient was near death. He mournfully reviewed the signs that William was already exhibiting, and gritted his teeth as he added loss of control of extremities to the list of things William was doing. William was incoherent most of the time, even though for some reason, he gained a little clarity in the evenings. Maybe medication wearing off, Luke supposed. Most of the time, William didn't even recognize Luke, and the loss of coherence was usually replaced with a surly attitude. William argued with everything Luke said or did, taking on the persona of a petulant child. Luke had to stay alert during the day, because his father would suddenly crawl out of bed, intent on making it to some unknown destination. He was amazingly quick when he got on his feet, and Luke was convinced one of these times, his father would make his break when Luke was distracted, and end up at the foot of the stairs with a broken neck.
Luke was at the point, though, that he almost hoped William would meet his end soon. He didn't want his father to die, but he knew if William had any real sense of how bad things were, he would want it to be over as well. Luke was tired of seeing his father writhe in pain, of hearing his once strong and intimidating dad begging for some long forgotten childhood toy, of watching William vomiting up blood. Two weeks ago Luke had to suck it up and tell the nurse that stopped by three times a week that he was finally ready to accept the fact that he needed to use adult diapers on his dad. The first time Luke had to bring out the damn things to use on his father, he ended up stumbling wildly out of the room, nearly knocking over Mia in the hallway as he fled toward the bathroom, alternately vomiting in the toilet and sobbing hysterically over the knowledge of how far gone his father already was.
"Hey, bro," Liz whispered. Luke shook his thoughts away as he felt his sister lean on his shoulder, throwing both arms around him. Neither spoke as they both quietly regarded their sleeping father. Luke turned his head slightly as he heard Liz snuffling quietly.
Liz buried her face into Luke's shoulder. "I couldn't stand to watch it," she whispered. I left you all alone to deal with it because all I could think was I couldn't watch him get sick and frail like Mom did," she cried quietly. Luke reached up and rubbed Liz's arm, letting her know he was listening.
Liz sighed and sat behind Luke, leaning back against his back. "I don't even really remember Mom," she said sadly. "I just remember that she was suddenly gone, and Dad was always sad, and you wouldn't even talk to me, and there was a hole in the ground, and all I knew was Mom was supposed to be in that hole. You know every time I dream about Mom, she's standing next to a big black hole in the ground? That always creeps me out when I wake up."
Luke shook his head slowly. "I didn't know that," he admitted, suddenly understanding why Liz was always acting like a spazz as a child. She was grieving just like Luke and William always had been, only she didn't even really know who or what she was grieving for.
"Does he hate me?" Liz asked, sniffing loudly.
"Nah," Luke assured her. "You could assassinate the president and Dad would still say you were just having a bad day. You're such a brat, the way you have him wrapped."
Liz laughed dryly. "You have got to be kidding me, the golden child is acting jealous? I always felt like the only way I could get Dad to stop worshipping at your most holy cleats for a minute and notice me was to knock over a liquor store."
"He would have noticed that," Luke agreed. "Christ, we're idiots."
Liz nodded, leaning her head back on Luke's shoulder. "Yeah, we are. Guess that makes us family, huh?"
Luke nodded and reached around behind him, pulling Liz's arm. Liz stood up, kissed Luke on the top of his head, and walked around to the other side of the bed and took William's hand. She looked at Luke sadly. "You're a good big brother, you know that?"
Luke shrugged. "I'm the only one you got."
Liz nodded. "No refunds, no exchanges."
They were silent for a while, watching William sleep, his breathing shallow. Liz sighed shakily, and lay down beside William, careful not to disturb him. She put her chin on his shoulder, tears escaping from her eyes. "Not going to be long now, is it?" she whispered, looking at Luke uncertainly.
Luke cleared his throat and clenched his teeth. "No," he rasped, feeling tears well up in his eyes as well.
Luke lay down on the other side of William.
Liz craned her neck and kissed William on the cheek. "It's okay if you have to go, Daddy, we'll be all right."
Luke nodded, feeling his throat tighten. "Yeah, Pop, we'll figure things out. If you gotta go, it's okay. You put up a good fight."
Liz took William's hand, and Luke reached over, linking his hand with theirs.
"We made one hell of a team, the three of us, didn't we?" Liz laughed tearfully. "Socks in the dishwasher and all?"
Luke smiled sadly as the tears flowed down his cheeks. "Yeah, we did. We just won't mention the sock thing to anyone."
Harbinger
Luke drove back to Stars Hollow, thinking over the last couple of days. It was December 1st, and he was still feeling a little grouchy, even after a weekend away at the old cabin. November 30th, the anniversary of William's death, was developing into a traditional day of utter depression for Luke. After seven years, he had pretty much gotten away from a sense of daily misery in terms of his father, but every November 30th dawned dismally for him. All the bad memories of William's illness came crashing back, always of course, with a hearty side dish of missing his mother as well. Luke was definitely still affected by his mother's death, but something about his father's passing left a sting that never quite went away.
In the days after the end of William's battle with cancer, Luke had felt completely alone, even though Liz, in a rare fit of helpfulness, was trying her best to take care of as many details in planning the funeral as possible. Luke had been pretty shell-shocked, and for the first time in Liz's life, she realized how much Luke and her father were a package deal, completely dependent upon one another for support. Watching Luke struggle with adjusting to life without their dad was like watching a recent amputee learn to adjust to the loss of a right arm. She realized that if things had somehow been reversed, and Luke had died, William would be struggling in exactly the same way. It made Liz feel simultaneously incredibly sad for her brother, while feeling a pang of jealousy at never having really been included in that dynamic.
As Luke drove, he thought back to the night following his father's funeral. He and Liz had opened their doors for their entire town after the burial, and Luke had numbly gone through the motions of accepting the sympathies of various friends and acquaintances, but he wasn't really present and accounted for, mentally. He and Liz had tried to clean up a little, but were quickly chased away by Maizie, Buddy, and Mia. Liz grabbed Luke's hand and dragged him up to her old bedroom, where he sat awkwardly on the edge of her bed, listening to her yammer on about spirits and heaven, and guardian angels. At some point, a bottle of Wild Turkey was brought out. At some point, Luke realized he had drank almost the entire bottle, while Liz worked on her own bottle of hooch. This realization hit him at the same time he realized that he and Liz were both flopped on the floor of her bedroom, listening to the album collection Liz had left behind. They talked and laughed drunkenly through Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Jethro Tull, and, for some weird reason, New Edition.
By the time Liz had loopily gone in search of their father's secret stash of alcohol, Luke was so drunk that he couldn't even sit up without leaning on the bed for support. Liz had squealed with glee as Luke had taken a few puffs off of the joint she had pulled out, and hours later, both were stunned to look out the window and see the sun rising over Stars Hollow to the strains of 'Inagaddadavida." Luke was still incredibly drunk, and gagging his way through his eighth cigarette that he had swiped from Liz's pack. Liz had eventually thrown in the towel and crawled into her bed and passed out. Luke had lost consciousness on the floor, with his head propped up on Liz's bean bag chair.
Luke shuddered at the memory of that night. He had developed quite the reputation of being as uptight and gruff as his father, and he couldn't imagine the amusement the people in town would experience if they had known he had unclenched enough to nearly drink himself into a coma and get high with his derelict sister. He'd never hear the end of it. One thing he knew for sure was that one night as a chain smoker was enough for him. He couldn't even stand the smell of cigarettes now. It always immediately reminded him of the nasty taste in his mouth as he fought off the hangover from hell that next day.
Luke drove into Stars Hollow, sighing as he resigned himself to getting back to business as usual. He drove past the garage he still rented to house the unfinished boat that William had been working on. Every year, Luke drove by the storage unit, figuring he'd stop off and look over the old thing, see if it could be salvaged. Luke knew he should finish up the job and sell the damn thing, but he didn't have the heart to get rid of it. His father had such plans for that boat, but the cancer had quickly put an end to those ideas. Luke slowed as he passed the garage, already knowing that this year, he wasn't even going to be able to stop. Some years he managed to get the truck into park, and sat for a while before putting it back in gear and speeding off. Two years ago, he had made it all the way up to the actual door before he backed away and took off. This year was definitely a no-stopper. Luke sighed. Maybe this summer he would be able to get motivated to finish up William's project.
Luke drove by the old house. Here, he did stop the truck for a while, gazing at the place. He sold the house about two years after his father's death. It was too much upkeep for one person, and the hardware store was pretty much going bust by that point. Liz had no interest in returning to Stars Hollow and keeping the house for herself, so Luke finally decided it had to go. He was still seeing Anna at the time, and she had helped him pack up everything and move out of the house, and into William's old office above the hardware store. She was even there when Luke closed the store and turned it into a business of his own. They had broken up shortly after that happened, however. Anna had decided that Luke was essentially too anti-social and too anti-happy for her. Luke couldn't blame her, he was pretty miserable to be around back then.
Luke drove back toward the hardware store and parked out in front. He looked over the place, a wave of pride washing over him. There was now a sign hanging below the old 'William's Hardware' sign that he refused to remove, to Taylor Doose's chagrin, that informed people looking for screwdrivers that they were actually about to enter 'Luke's Diner'. The place was packed. It had taken Luke a few years, but the diner was finally turning a profit. He was never going to be rolling in cash, but he did manage to make more than eight dollars a month most of the time. The first couple of years were a little rough. He was constantly having to tell people that the tools on the shelves weren't actually for sale, and yes, he really did serve food in a hardware store. The town had gotten used to Luke's stubborn refusal to make the fact that he was running a restaurant a little more obvious by taking his father's stuff off the walls, and now most everyone ate there religiously. His coffee alone was gaining legendary status, and word was spreading that Luke's was definitely the place to go for a good meal. Luke walked into the diner, ignoring the hush that fell over the gathered diners. By now, most everyone had made the connection that November 30th was Luke's official 'Dark Day', though not many people remembered exactly why that was anymore. The Danes family had always been well-known in town, but after Grace's death, they tended to live in their own little bubble, so nobody really associated that particular date with William's death.
Luke glared at the gathered crowd, and all wisely resumed eating and chattering. Luke grunted and walked behind the counter. "Caesar," he yelled.
"Yeah boss?" Caesar asked, poking his head out of the kitchen.
"I'll be down in a minute, you guys got it under control here?" Luke asked.
"Yeah, boss," Caesar nodded.
Luke carried his duffel bag and fishing gear up to the old office and showered up before returning to the diner to pitch in with the morning crowd. It wasn't long before he had to throw himself into his work and he expertly spun around the place, juggling orders, coffee, and plates piled high with various breakfast platters.
The morning was especially busy, and the typical lull that happened around 10 a.m. never came. The throngs of diners kept coming and coming, and even Luke was beginning to feel the stress as he realized he and his staff just weren't going to get a moment to catch their breath anytime soon. The breakfast rush evolved into the lunch rush. He didn't even bother looking up whenever he heard the bell over the door jangle, announcing yet another new customer. He would just yell over his shoulder at them, telling them to sit wherever they could find a place, or wait their turn for a table. Luke was so absorbed in his work that didn't notice the bell ring out once more as he maniacally tried to pile up the dishes left on a newly vacated table, rubbing a washcloth over the surface, and then sweeping up all the dishes into his arms. Luke spun around and rushed toward the kitchen, willing the gods to prevent him from dropping the pile.
"Oh my god!" Luke heard a voice shriek somewhere in front of him. Luke spun away defensively, somehow managing to keep hold of the dishes with his sudden evasive maneuvers. Luke completed the spin and faced the roadblock that he had nearly mowed down. He pressed his chin down into an empty coffee cup on top of his load when he felt the stack shift ominously.
"Sorry," he grunted through clenched teeth, all his effort focused on maintaining control.
"Not a problem, Evel Knievel, you put on a very entertaining sideshow," the girl laughed, nervously readjusting a knife that was on the verge of sliding off the pile that Luke was clutching.
"Table's clear if you want it," Luke said, regarding the girl curiously. Not a local. Dark curly hair, pale blue eyes, very pretty smile, and very...bouncy. She looked like she was about to vibrate into another plane of existence. She looked around the diner, but didn't move to take a seat anywhere. Luke sighed, and negotiated a path around the girl and took the dishes into the kitchen. Luke rushed back out and worked his way quickly down the counter, refilling all the coffee cups that were awaiting refreshment, and sped over to a table near the wall that was occupied by an impatient looking couple. Luke whipped out his order pad. "What can I get you?" he asked breathlessly.
"You can get me some coffee, stat," a voice behind Luke cut in.
Luke turned around to face the dark haired girl again. "Uh, okay, can you give me a second, here?" he asked, turning back to his waiting customers.
"I don't have a second, I need coffee, like ten minutes ago, " she pleaded.
Luke shot an apologetic glance at the customers, and turned to face the woman who was quickly getting on his nerves. "I will be with you in a minute, I have customers that were here first, and I need to get their orders in. Sit over at the counter and I'll get your coffee in a minute."
"Well, that's not very fair," she pouted.
"What's not?" he asked in exasperation.
"You went from coffee in a second to coffee in a minute. The next time I ask you for coffee, it could take you an hour. I can't wait that long. I need coffee now," she explained frantically.
"Oh my god, you're a lot of work, lady. Just keep your pants on." Luke turned back to his customers once more, breathing a sigh of relief as the irritating woman remained silent. He finally took down the orders, and rushed over to the kitchen, passing off the form to Caesar. Luke grabbed the plates of food Caesar slid toward him, and turned to deliver them to another table. Luke jerked to a stop, raising the dishes into the air as he found himself face to face with the blue eyed woman once again.
"Lady," he growled menacingly.
"What's your name?" she asked innocently.
"Pick up a menu, read the front, fill in the blanks yourself," he muttered, stepping around her and heading toward the awaiting diner patrons who were staring pointedly at their meals that were still in Luke's hands.
The woman picked up a menu propped up beside the cash register and perused the cover, setting it back down after a moment. Luke sped back to the cash register to ring up a customer who was standing with his bill held conspicuously in front of him. As Luke opened the register drawer, he saw the woman lean across the counter, practically lying down.
"So when's your birthday?" she questioned, pulling out a folded up newspaper Luke kept on the counter for the regulars.
"None of your business," Luke muttered, trying desperately to concentrate on the other customers.
"Spill, mister, or I'll stay here until you close," she shot back.
"November 4th," Luke said as he walked past her. The woman grabbed a pen off the cash register and bent over the newspaper, scribbling furiously. She ripped out a tiny portion of the page and walked over to Luke, reaching over as he wiped down a table, and stuffing the scrap into the pocket of his flannel shirt, then returned to her seat.
"Hey, Duke," she said, looking up at him coyly when he returned to ring up another diner.
"Luke," he muttered back.
"Duke, I'm dying here. I am about to expire right here on your counter. How much business will you get with a chalk outline on your counter top?" she wheezed dramatically, lying her head down again.
"You forgot to take some very important medication this morning, didn't you?" He grouched, handing the customer his change.
"Noooo," she sang. "It's just a very mean man named Duke won't give me what I need," she sighed theatrically.
Luke slammed the register drawer shut. "I think you've been hitting something a lot stiffer than just coffee," Luke snarked.
The woman gasped. "Dirty!" she exclaimed.
Luke felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head. "I didn't mean...I mean, I meant that you...uh, actually..." Luke stammered out, taken aback that the woman had taken his sarcastic comment as something sexual. He was thinking alcohol, for chrissakes.
"Duuuuuuuuuuuuuke," she moaned, banging her forehead into the counter.
"What am I supposed to do with this, anyway?" Luke asked, looking at the horoscope for Scorpio that she had scrawled over. The loopy handwriting stated 'You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away!!!'
"Keep it, put it in your wallet. It'll bring you luck," she promised, then she suddenly started sputtering and clutching at her throat, eyes crossed.
"Oh, for the love of God, listen, sit down, shut your yap for ten seconds, and I'll bring you your damn coffee, will you please just do that for me?" he begged, reaching for a mug and the coffee pot. "I take it decaf is not an option for you?"
The woman shook her head silently, watching the coffee pot intensely as he brought it closer to where she was sitting.
"Finally, some relief," Luke groaned. He filled the coffee cup to the brim, and watched in fascination as the woman attacked the cup, drinking deeply.
She set the cup down and smiled up at Luke, her face aglow. "You're pretty!" she stated in gratitude.
"Junkie," Luke growled and topped her cup off again.
"I want to marry your coffee," she whispered reverently.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you're just passing through," he begged.
The woman grinned. "Nope, I'm going to be around for quite a while, actually, and you, my friend, have just gained a new customer. Your coffee is better than sex," she pronounced.
Luke arched an eyebrow at the woman. "You lead a very lonely existence if that's what you think," he said, shaking his head.
She nodded comically. "That I do, Duke."
"Luke," he sighed. "Well, if you're going to be annoying me on a regular basis, I should at least know your name, right?" he asked resignedly.
"Lorelai," she beamed, laying money down on the counter. "Nice to meet you, Duke. Great coffee, but the service kind of sucks. I gotta run. See ya later!" she said gaily as she bounced out through the diner door.
Luke watched her as she pranced across the town square. He shook his head violently, trying to recuperate from the tornado that had just whirled through his diner.
"Lorelai," Luke muttered thoughtfully.
He had a feeling that this woman was going to be a colossal source of irritation for him in the future. Luke turned back to the sea of customers still waiting to be served.
He smiled to himself. Life in Stars Hollow had just gotten very interesting for Luke Danes.
Interlude
Eight years.
He stared at the ceiling above his head, trying to ignore the lingering scent of her perfume that still clung to the pillow beside him.
It had taken him eight years to find a window, to find a place in her life-a part that was bigger than the role of burger server he had played faithfully over the years. He had let opportunity after opportunity slip from his grasp because of fear; fear of rejection, fear that she wouldn't take his feelings seriously, fear that she would run like she always did when confronted with a man who only wanted to love her.
Eight years.
After all that time, he was tired of the fear. He had finally decided that the pain of being rejected was far more tolerable than the pain of never really knowing for sure if he ever even stood a fighting chance.
And so he had bitten the bullet. He read all of the books, listened to all of the tapes.
He saw her face, and he had squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and took that proverbial leap of faith. He asked her to give him a chance.
And she had said 'yes'.
After eight years, she finally said 'yes'.
After eight years, he finally knew the agony and the ecstasy of loving her.
Of being loved BY her.
He knew, on the most intimate levels, the feel of her soft lips on his, on all of him. He had tasted every inch of her flesh, always craving more. His hands had explored every peak and valley her body offered. He knew the contentment of lying naked next to her, hopelessly entangled with her, body pressing against body, and still not feeling close enough.
He knew the frantic anticipation of hovering above her while looking into her eyes, waiting for that moment when they wordlessly said 'yes' to him again. He knew the power of his sheer want whenever he was inside of her. He knew the coldness in the pit of his stomach whenever she was absent from his side.
For the first time in ages, he knew what it felt like to be home. Home was in her arms. Home was in her soft gaze. Home was anywhere she was.
He looked at the pillow beside him, misery etched across his features. It lay there unused, and he had no one to blame for it but himself.
He was the one who told her he couldn't be in this relationship anymore. She had stood before him, nearly in tears, telling him she was all in, that she wanted a middle with him, whatever that meant.
He had said 'no'. He had turned and walked away from her.
He had wanted to say he was still all in, but the old fears were back. He could handle her issues with commitment, but he had come face to face with the privileged world that surrounded her, even though she had rejected it herself, and he felt utterly defeated by it.
He couldn't compete with Christopher. He wasn't Rory's father. He couldn't expect them to expel this person from their lives to soothe his wounded pride. Christopher would always be there.
Emily and Richard would always be there, refusing to accept his presence. They would always scorn his very existence. He had tried to make them see how he felt about her, but they only saw his lowly diner, his beat up truck, his weathered clothes. They would never see the man he wished he had the courage to stand up and force them to see.
He wanted to scream at them, make them realize that he may not be the richest of men, but he had come to who he was now by his own blood, sweat, and tears. He wasn't a bum on a street corner, he was Luke Danes, son of William and Grace, spitting image of his father, with a heart as big and fragile as his mother's. He had learned to fish at his father's side, and had learned to dance in his mother's arms.
Christopher could never make the same claim. He was a son of privilege, and a victim of a life of entitlement.
Yet they would never see the loss, the sacrifice, the struggle. They would only see the lack of breeding, the meager bank accounts. It was more than his foolish pride could bear. But his pride was all he really had.
He clung to that pride, even though it was why he was alone now.
After eight years, he finally knew what it was like to love Lorelai Gilmore.
But now he knew what it felt like to lose her.
He sat up, shaking off the self-pity he had immersed himself in.
He heard Emily's words. He heard her telling him that he had won. That Lorelai wanted him.
He wondered if it was true, if he still had one more opportunity to have her in his life again.
He wondered if his stupid pride would allow him to go to her, to take one more leap of faith.
He wondered what his father would do. He would probably hide in his bed for hours, cursing his own stupid pride, that's what his father would do.
He wondered what his mother would do. He smiled. He knew exactly what she would do.
She would fall to her knees begging for one more chance. She would promise the moon and stars. She would embrace her own foolish romanticism. She would sell her pride to the lowest bidder if it meant having the one thing in the world that meant more to her than her own life. She was not above doing anything it took to find her way back home again.
Luke grabbed his keys and practically flew to his truck, his mind made up, his destination certain.
Most people knew he was definitely his father's son, but the one thing they overlooked was he was also just like his mother.
He was going to find his way back home again.
It had taken him eight years to find it, he wasn't about to give it up without a fight.
Purging
"Come on, Lorelai, you know the deal here," Luke muttered.
Lorelai stood stubbornly in his doorway, drinking in Luke's appearance. He looked haggard, more stubble than usual, bloodshot eyes with bags underneath, betraying the fact that he had not gotten any restful sleep the night before.
"I know," she said softly. "But maybe you need to start handling this Dark Day of yours a little differently," she offered.
Luke cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. "Listen, I'm just trying to spare you from having to deal with my shitty mood today, at least any more than you've already had to deal with it. No need for psychotherapy." He had already had enough unpleasant run-ins with Lorelai today. She had caught him bawling out Mrs. Thompson for asking him to move his father's boat because she was moving, and then he had ended up tearing Lorelai to shreds because she had taken the boat herself in an attempt to be helpful. He had apologized to her later when he calmed down, but the damage was already done. She had seen how foul-tempered he got on this day every year. He hated that he couldn't reign in his attitude enough to be decent toward Lorelai, but damn it, he told her he spent this day alone for a reason, and she kept trying to make it better, which only made it worse.
Lorelai nervously played with a lock of her hair. "I'm not trying to psychoanalyze you," she said, a touch of irritation in her voice. She suddenly pushed past Luke and walked into his darkened apartment.
"What are you doing?" he asked in exasperation as she wandered into the next room. He just wanted to be left alone, today of all days. All he wanted was his one day a year to wallow, why was she denying him this one simple request?
Lorelai walked slowly over to Luke's closet and opened the door. She thoughtfully looked over its contents for a while, then selected a flannel shirt and threw it on the bed. Silently, she began to undress. Luke swallowed hard, watching her peel away her layers of clothing. She stood at the foot of the bed, stark naked, watching him watch her. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth as she picked up the flannel shirt and slowly pulled it on, buttoning it closed over her nakedness.
"Lorelai," he rasped dryly
"Shh," she admonished. She took inventory of what Luke was wearing. He had changed into a t-shirt and jogging pants since she last saw him, obviously intent on staying in for the rest of the night. She walked over to Luke and took his hand, leading him back to the bed. She pulled back the sheets.
"Lie down," she said firmly. Luke glared at her for a moment, then acquiesced to her demand. He climbed into bed and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling to avoid watching to see what she was going to do next. Lorelai got into bed beside him, and pulled the sheets up over both of them, gently tucking him in. When she was done, she lay on her side, head propped up on one hand, gazing intently at Luke.
Luke shifted uncomfortably under her unwavering gaze.
"So..." Lorelai said softly, running her hand through his hair.
"So...what?" Luke muttered gruffly, picking distractedly at the sheets she had draped around him.
"So...Luke's Dark Day, what's that all about?" she asked plaintively.
Luke looked at her quizzically. "I've told you a hundred times already. Anniversary of my dad's death. Big, crappy day for me," he shrugged.
"You told me once," she reminded him. "I thought maybe it would help if you just, I don't know, got your feelings off your chest for a change, instead of bottling it all up, you know, like you tend to do," she stammered.
Luke groaned. "Too hard to pick one feeling out," he said honestly. "I wouldn't know which one to even start with."
Lorelai watched Luke fidget nervously, obviously uncomfortable with her attempts to get him to share.
She dragged her fingers idly across Luke's forehead, tracing the lines that time had left behind. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Just try," she pleaded. She stopped her fingers and gently poked him in the center of his forehead. "Like, what thought is floating around in this general vicinity?" she asked with an encouraging smile.
Luke flinched dramatically, and forcefully yanked her hand from his head. He nearly leapt out of bed, clamoring to get away from Lorelai.
"Luke?" Lorelai whispered, stunned by the violent way he had recoiled from her. She stared at him as he stared back at her, wild-eyed and panting heavily.
"Luke, what just happened there?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
Luke sighed shakily and sat back down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. He moaned softly as he felt the tears well up in his eyes.
"Talk to me, Babe," Lorelai begged, touching his shoulder but withdrawing her hand quickly as she felt him jump at the contact.
"Mom," Luke hissed, his voice muffled by his hands.
"Mom?" Lorelai asked, confused. Luke looked up at her, the pain evident in his eyes.
"My mom, that's what...she used to always...that's what she used to do to get me to talk to her," he replied raggedly. His chest hitched as he remembered the last time Grace had ever done that to him, as she lay dying. "She used to...with her finger...just like...and she'd poke me in the head, just like you did," he sputtered, desperately trying to form a coherent sentence. "It was her trick, she'd sucker me into talking just like that, like you just tried to do," he managed to choke out.
Lorelai sat upright and stared at Luke, mouth agape. She struggled to find words as she watched Luke fight to control himself and his emotions. He had wrapped his arms around himself, staring at the wall, blinking rapidly to keep the tears that swam in his eyes from spilling over. He was rocking unconsciously, as though he were trying to shield himself from whatever memory she had inadvertently triggered.
"Oh my god," Lorelai murmured. "Oh, Babe, I'm so sorry Luke, I didn't mean..." she trailed off as she saw him shake his head.
"No," he muttered. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Luke suddenly turned around to face Lorelai, avoiding eye contact. He reached for her and pulled her to him, crushing her lips with his own. He kissed her deeply, gasping for air as he pushed her back onto the bed.
"Luke," Lorelai whispered, but he cut her off, covering her mouth with his own again. He parted her lips forcefully with his tongue, plunging it into her mouth. Lorelai moaned and wrapped her arms around him, dragging her fingers up his back. He dipped his head and dragged his lips across her throat, recklessly licking and nipping his way up her neck.
Lorelai moved her hand to the side of his head, her thumb caressing his cheek as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. Lorelai's eyes flew open when she felt wetness where her thumb had just traced, and she pulled Luke's head up into view. His normally soft, blue eyes were a dark, steely grey, and nearly obscured by tears. His brow was furrowed deeply, and his teeth were clenched so tightly she could see the muscles around his jaw bulging out.
"Don't," he whispered.
"Luke, damn it, talk to me," Lorelai begged, sitting up.
Luke closed his eyes and shook his head silently.
Lorelai clasped his face in her hands. "Talk," she demanded.
Luke groaned. "This is why I keep to myself," he seethed. He grabbed his pillow and threw it into Lorelai's lap, plopping his head down forcefully.
Lorelai stroked his hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" Luke grunted, swiping angrily at his damp face.
"For upsetting you, that you even have to have a day like this, for everything," she sighed, finally grasping the intensity of the loss that he still felt whenever he thought of his parents. Luke didn't reply.
"You were really young when she died, weren't you?" Lorelai asked softly, fingering a tuft of Luke's hair.
Luke nodded silently.
"Seven," he finally grunted.
"Wow," Lorelai gasped. "That's so...young. Did you even understand what was happening?"
Luke shrugged. "Yeah. No. You figure things out when you realize your mother's hair is falling out in clumps," he sighed miserably.
Lorelai shuddered involuntarily. "I couldn't even imagine," she admitted.
Luke shifted, rubbing his hand up and down Lorelai's leg. She waited to see if he would continue on his own. Luke remained silent for a long time, still rubbing her leg.
"I was there," he whispered.
"Where?" Lorelai asked, not understanding.
"When she died," he explained quietly. "My dad was asleep. Mom and I were together in her bed. We were talking, and she just...kind of...faded away,"
"Oh my god," Lorelai gasped. "Did you know? Did she know?" she asked, feeling tears well up in her own eyes now.
Luke nodded and buried his face in his pillow. Lorelai did her best to comfort Luke without being overbearing. She wanted to sweep him up in her arms and hold him tight, but she remained still, hoping that talking about it all would help him.
Luke unburied his face and resumed stroking Lorelai's leg as he fought to find a way to describe Grace's death without falling apart.
"She knew. It wasn't...bad...Her breathing. It was hard for her, but I don't think she was in pain. Maybe she just didn't want me to know she was. She just kept saying she was sorry," Luke sighed. "She just went to sleep. I had my head on her chest. I could hear her heart, and it was really fast, and I didn't understand why it was beating so fast. I guess I thought it should have been slow. But after a while I didn't hear it anymore," he continued, trying to control the tremble in his voice. "But I just stayed there. I didn't get my dad. I just stayed there until he woke up."
"Oh, Babe," Lorelai sighed sympathetically, stroking Luke's cheek.
Luke laughed suddenly.
"What?" Lorelai asked uncertainly.
"I socked Dad," he chuckled. "I forgot about that. He kept trying to pick me up, to get me away from all that, and when he finally got me out of the bed, I punched him. Socked him right in the jaw, and ran away."
"Oh dear," Lorelai said, stifling a smile.
"That's the only time I ever did anything like that where I didn't end up with him chasing me around the house with his belt," Luke laughed.
"You got spanked a lot growing up, didn't you?" Lorelai grinned.
Luke grinned back at Lorelai. "Only when my dad wasn't feeling very creative with his punishments," he stated.
Lorelai cocked her head curiously. "Okay, spill. What on earth could you have ever done to inspire your father to have to dream up alternative punishments?" she queried, fascinated.
Luke rolled over onto his back, his head still in Lorelai's lap. "I had issues with cursing," he admitted.
"No," Lorelai gasped, feigning surprise. "You?"
Luke nodded. "But you don't understand, I always tried to copy everything my dad did, so I started cussing when I was in kindergarten. He'd always wail on me for doing it, too, and he just never got that I was imitating him. It's downright pathetic, the number of times that I've literally had my mouth washed out with soap."
"Oh my god, like in 'A Christmas Story'?" Lorelai squealed gleefully.
"Yup," Luke sighed. "Only Dad liked to go for Lava soap, he figured the grit would heighten the unpleasantness."
"Did it work?" Lorelai giggled.
Luke blinked, thinking back on the soaping traumas in his life. "Nooo, but I do remember burping up a bubble once."
Lorelai shrieked with laughter, and Luke couldn't help but follow suit.
"More," Lorelai gasped, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. "More crime and punishment."
Luke groaned. "Uh, okay, I um...used to smoke when I was a kid," he cringed.
"What?" Lorelai screamed. "You SMOKED? Mister Red Meat Bad smoked?" she asked incredulously.
"I never said I smoked WELL," Luke explained. "It was mostly stealing a pack of smokes from somebody's father and hiding behind the school and holding a lit cigarette to look cool. I don't even know that I ever even inhaled the right way," he argued.
"So your dad eventually busted you," Lorelai prodded.
"Yep," Luke grinned. "He bought a carton of cigarettes and he dragged me out to the kitchen, gave me a lighter, and told me to sit there until I smoked every single one."
Lorelai clapped her hands in delight. "How far did you get?" she asked excitedly.
"I was ready to give up on the third cigarette," Luke admitted. "But he kept pushing me, and I actually got through four packs before things turned ugly."
"You didn't," Lorelai gasped.
"Ralphed all over the kitchen floor," Luke groaned. "And I puked for three hours straight. Very long night."
"More," Lorelai begged.
"Oh boy," Luke moaned. "I have a really good example of my father's cruelty, but it involves Rachel," he said, glancing at Lorelai. "Can you handle it?"
Lorelai gritted her teeth. "My need to know far outweighs my need to pretend that Rachel never existed," Lorelai said.
"Okay," Luke said. "So, I'm sure you've already guessed that she was my, you know, my first," Luke stammered. "Eventually, Dad figured it out, and he tried to play it cool, but the one clear rule was no messing around in the house."
"And obviously, you messed around in the house," Lorelai grimaced.
Luke nodded, blushing. "Her car was parked right in front of the house, and Dad came home earlier than we expected him to. We were...um...very occupied when we heard the front door open. Dad stomped around and banged things really loud, I guess to announce his presence, and we were scrambling for clothing. Rachel ended up diving out my bedroom window and climbing down over the porch, dressed except for her underwear. We couldn't find them and we were too panicked to waste time on the search as long as she had the other essentials," Luke explained. "So Dad comes up to talk to me, some stupid reason that was only to make sure that Rachel was gone, and there was no more hanky-panky happening. I saw her bra on the floor beside him and threw a towel over it, and when Dad left, I found her panties and hid everything under my pillow. The next day I come home from school, and when I go into my room, there are her bra and panties superglued to my wall, and my entire condom collection stapled individually to my curtains. There was a note on my pillow in big magic markered uppercase letters saying 'NOT IN MY HOUSE!'. Neither of us said a word to one another about it, and Rachel never stepped foot in my room ever again," Luke grinned sheepishly.
Lorelai moaned as she tried to control her laughter. "I loooove your dad," she giggled.
"Me too," Luke sighed.
"It was cancer with him too?" Lorelai questioned warily.
Luke nodded. "Yeah, nice gene pool I'm swimming in, huh?" he said sarcastically.
"So that explains the health nut ways," Lorelai surmised.
"Yeah," Luke admitted. "I just...don't want to die like that," he whispered. "It was all so ugly, and they were too young. My mother died not too long before her thirtieth birthday. Rory's not so much younger than my mom was," he said, stunned by the realization. Lorelai gripped Luke's forearm, horrified at the knowledge of how young Luke's mother was when she passed away. She herself had already lived more years than Grace had.
Luke swallowed hard. "Dad wasn't much older than I am now when he got sick," he moaned. "He didn't look like he was still in his forties when he died. He looked like he was sixty," he continued. "I never really thought about how young they really were. Mom and Dad got married when she was twenty one and he was twenty four. They had me right out the starting gate. They were so goddamned young," Luke gasped.
"They were," Lorelai agreed sadly, feeling tears spring up in her eyes again as she watched Luke wrestle with his pain.
"That could be me, anytime," Luke whispered, looking up into Lorelai's eyes, not even trying to mask the fear that was welling up inside of him.
"Babe, no," Lorelai said soothingly, stroking Luke's furrowed brow. "That doesn't have to be you. You're healthy, you're strong," she said.
Luke blinked. "So were they," he said bluntly.
"You can't think like that," Lorelai argued.
Luke sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "But what if it does happen?" he asked.
Lorelai sighed. "Then we deal," she stated.
"We?" Luke asked, sitting up.
Lorelai nodded. "Yes, we do," she promised. "Even if the worst case scenario happened, there's no way in hell I would ever let you go through it alone."
Luke stared at Lorelai. "I wouldn't want that," he rasped. "I couldn't let you deal with that. I wouldn't. I won't. If I ever got sick, I'd end it. I'd go somewhere far away, and die on my own. I couldn't deal with it, knowing you were watching me die like that."
Lorelai looked stunned. "How could you even say that? How could you think that you could just send me away if something like that happened?" she cried angrily. "I love you, Luke, damn it, you have no right to decide on what terms we stay together. Do you think your father would have taken that from your mother? Do you think he would have accepted it if your mother left you all so you didn't have to watch her die? Do you?" she cried.
Luke jumped from the bed, eyes blazing. "Don't," he warned loudly. "Don't you dare sit there and presume to know anything about my parents just because I told you a couple of anecdotes about my childhood. You don't know squat," he growled, pacing back and forth.
"Luke," Lorelai pleaded.
"No," Luke said sharply. "You don't know anything. It's cancer, Lorelai. Cancer isn't nice. It isn't pleasant. There's nothing peaceful about dying from cancer. There's nothing noble about it. It strips you of everything. It doesn't give a damn about pride, or dignity, or privacy. It doesn't look like what they show on television. The treatment leaves you looking like a skeleton, you lose your hair, you can't eat, they pump you full of poison to try and control it, for the love of god. It eats you alive from the inside out. You lose control of your bodily functions, you puke up bile and blood, you lose your mind, you lose every ounce of strength, you lose every piece of who you were before you got cancer. You become this empty shell. It's ugly, It's horrible, it's sickening, and you don't know how many times I wanted to just run away and never look back when Dad got bad. I didn't want to deal with it. I couldn't stand it, I couldn't stand seeing him that way. You have no way to understand how being in that room was enough to make me sick. Cancer smells, Lorelai, did you know that? Oh god, you couldn't imagine how foul it was. His breath stunk, his body stunk, the room reeked of SICK. I would puke daily. I couldn't stomach being in his room for long. It literally made me sick to my stomach," he ranted.
"But you loved him," Lorelai cried. "You stayed because you loved him. THAT I get, Luke. Loving him was enough to make you stay, loving you would be enough to make ME stay."
Luke shook his head violently. "I will NOT have you carrying around a jug of my piss. I will NOT have you wiping my ass. I will NOT have you cleaning the drool off of my chin. Why can't you respect that? Why can't you respect that I have the right to die without someone I love wallowing knee-deep in my excrement? It's my life, damn it. If I don't want you to deal with that kind of thing, then that's my prerogative. You don't get to argue that," he yelled at her.
"And it's my right to choose whether or not I spend every minute I can have with the man I love," she screamed at him. "You are not going to leave me. You are not going to turn away from me. You are not going to deny me whatever time I have left with you. I love you, and I will not leave your side, and YOU don't get to argue THAT!"
Luke stared at Lorelai, eyes wide, body trembling. "My father died in fucking diapers!" he wailed, and sunk to the floor next to the bed. He was overcome with the fierce sobs that wracked his body. Lorelai fell to her knees beside Luke, finally having her opportunity to wrap her arms around him.
"He died with his family at his side," Lorelai whispered, crying softly. "It doesn't matter how ugly it all was, what matters is he didn't die alone," she whispered, hugging Luke as tightly as possible. Luke pressed his face into Lorelai's neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, sobbing loudly.
"It isn't fair," he cried, "It's not fair, I want them back. I want them back so bad."
"I know, Baby," Lorelai wept, cradling Luke in her arms. "I know you do."
They remained there on the floor for a long time, Luke tears slowly diminishing, Lorelai never wavering in her whispered words of comfort and soothing touches.
Luke finally pulled back from Lorelai, sheepishly wiping his face with the edge of his shirt. "Bet you never thought you'd be dating such a girl," he grumbled, embarrassed by his emotional display.
Lorelai smiled. "Funny," she said. "I was just wondering what took me so damn long to see how amazing you really are."
Luke wrinkled up his nose. "Riiight," he said dryly.
"I was also just thinking how incredible your parents must have been to have been able to leave someone like you as their legacy," she said, tears sparkling in her eyes.
"Thanks," Luke whispered shyly. "But they also made Liz. They should have stopped while they were ahead," he groaned, smiling as Lorelai laughed at the reminder of his loopy sister.
"I wish I could have known them," Lorelai sighed.
"They would have loved you," Luke said. "You and Mom would bond over your mutual weirdness."
"Aw, thanks, hon," Lorelai grimaced. "Glad to know you think I'm weird."
"All evidence supports the conclusion," Luke shrugged. "I'm tired. Are you tired?"
"Exhausted," Lorelai agreed. "Bed?"
"Definitely," Luke sighed as he got to his feet.
"So.." Lorelai said, allowing Luke to pull her up to her feet. "As far as Dark Days go?"
Luke smiled, crawling into his side of the bed. "I don't know, maybe next year...won't be so dark, maybe."
Lorelai pulled the covers up under her chin. "Sounds good to me," she grinned, leaning over to kiss Luke.
Luke pulled Lorelai close and nestled his face into her soft curls.
"Thanks," he whispered softly, and kissed her on the top of her head.
"Any time, Babe," Lorelai smiled, and closed her eyes.
Discord
Luke sat in a chair, staring mutely at the gaping hole in the wall covered haphazardly with a sheet of plastic.
He didn't rant.
He didn't yell.
He didn't plot Kirk's imminent death.
He didn't call the insurance company.
He didn't go get his mop to try and attack the skid marks on the floor.
He certainly didn't pick up the phone to call Lorelai.
He just sat there, contemplating the broken wood, the shattered glass, allowing his muddled thoughts to spin wordlessly around in his mind.
He stared at the mess before him. Luke had never laid his eyes on a more fitting allegory for his life.
His brain churned, random thoughts flying around inside his skull at warp speed.
"I've been here before," Luke mused.
"I recognize that tree." Luke shuddered violently, hearing Lorelai's voice intoning those words in his head.
"Me too," Luke agreed silently.
Located next to the tree was Rock Bottom. Elevation: 0, Population:1.
Enough room for only Luke 'Table For One' Danes, wearing a button that states, "Permanently Fuck Up Your Life. Ask Me How! 0% Introductory APR!".
Best-selling book at Rock Bottom Bookstore is entitled "How To End Up Bitter And Alone In Five Easy Steps" by, you guessed it, Lucas Danes.
Step One: Find out you have a kid you never knew about.
Step Two: Don't mention the kid to your fiancée.
Step Three: Reject your fiancée’s last ditch effort to save your faltering relationship
Step Four: Drive your fiancée into another man's bed.
Step Five: Hire Kirk Gleason as a one-man demolition crew to obliterate the one last constant in your life.
Repeat as necessary until you've achieved your goal of becoming a romantic and social leper!
Luke sighed miserably. The image of Lorelai he had been obsessively carrying around in his mind was suddenly being replaced by sheer lunacy. He wasn't sure if he preferred the lunacy or not. It was currently a little more tolerable than seeing Lorelai, her hair draped over her shoulders, those soft, flawless, creamy white shoulders.
Seeing her smiling seductively, enticingly, closing those brilliant blue eyes and moaning in ecstasy, it was enough to drive a man mad. Especially since every time he closed his eyes, he saw Lorelai doing all that, only doing it with someone else. Imagining her straddling him, riding him, moaning out his name, his hands on her skin, where Luke's hands should be, no one else's, certainly not CHRISTOPHER's god damned hands.
While he lay in his bed two nights ago, trying to figure out how to make things up to her, she had gone to Christopher.
He had a pillow wrapped around his head that night to try and block out all the guilt and frustration he was feeling, and she was in Christopher's bed with her legs wrapped around HIM.
It was enough to make a man feel a little touched in the head.
Or at least enough to make a man get into his truck, and drive for hours just for the opportunity to punch the schmuck in his overprivileged schnozz.
Luke felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward at that memory, still savoring the sight of Christopher sprawled on his back.
But it didn't fix anything.
It didn't make the ache in the pit of his gut go away.
That ache had been there since she had stood before him and said it was over.
She told him she had slept with Christopher.
She slept with Christopher first, THEN officially ended their relationship.
Not Luke's fondest memory of the girl.
He kind of hated her for that. Just a little bit. Okay, sometimes a lot. But usually just a little bit.
Yeah, he had screwed up in a big way. There was no excuse for not telling Lorelai about April, no excuse for shutting Lorelai out, but damn it, couldn't she have just walked away? Why did she have to sleep with the son of a bitch?
But there was no comparison, not really, right?
Lies by omission versus outright infidelity?
Luke shuddered.
"I've been here before, too," he thought.
"Look kids, Big Ben, Tower of London," her voice taunted in his head.
"Shut up," Luke muttered quietly.
He could see Lorelai's face, leaning toward his own, grinning wickedly. "You are not wearing your socks again, mixaphorically speaking, huh, Cool Hand?" she seethed gleefully.
"I am not wearing my socks," Luke groaned, slouching down in his chair.
"Your own damn fault," she argued in his brain. "Maybe next time you'll be a little more open to ultimatums, be a little more forthcoming about the new developments in your pathetic little life."
"Yeah," Luke whispered. "Next time a long-lost daughter comes walking in my diner door, I'm going right to the telephone and ringing up the ole ball and chain, post-haste."
Damn it, she should have understood.
She was supposed to know him, she even claimed to 'get' him. How could she not see that when you wake up one day thinking that your biggest ordeal in life is going to be ordering enough Swiss cheese to make it through the week, and you end up suddenly being someone's father, that sometimes it takes processing? Especially for someone like him. Luke was a processor. Lorelai was well aware of this fact. And processing, by its very nature, has a slow connotation, right?
And what about the whole break with Rory? She had essentially declared that drama off limits to Luke. He wasn't allowed to really participate. Every time he threw in his two cents worth, things got really tense. But he was supposed to immediately invite Lorelai into this sudden father-daughter dynamic he was trying to muddle his way through?
"Hypocrite," Luke scoffed angrily.
"Takes one to know one," she mocked cruelly in the back of his mind.
"How am I a hypocrite?" he wondered, trying to keep from talking out loud, since there was still the occasional gawker standing outside the diner, observing him as he stared back out through the hole.
He didn't know why he even bothered to cover up the argument with Lorelai that he was conjuring up in his head.
It probably wouldn't surprise anyone to find Luke sitting in the middle of his busted up diner, arguing with himself.
Crazy is as crazy does.
And Luke was pretty sure he was going crazy, right about now.
"Let's get back on topic," he heard Lorelai's voice hiss in his head.
"Right-o," he muttered to himself. "Back to the breakdown."
"You are a hypocrite, Burger Boy, because you, Luke Danes, fixer of all things broken, never bothered to even TRY to fix US. You watched us break. You sat there like an idiot and just let it happen. Didn't even crack Bert open to look for something to fix us with. You just let it go. I think you wanted it this way," the phantom voice of Lorelai trumpeted.
Maybe she was right, Luke shrugged. Maybe he did let her slip out of his grasp. He was never completely comfortable in the relationship, he never really expected to be in it for the long haul. This was Lorelai Gilmore, after all. He hadn't figured out how he had finally managed to get her into his life, but he had. Trouble was, he had no idea what to do to keep her. Luke Danes was the fixer of all things broken, but he was also essentially a factory second. You can't fix what was never really whole in the first place.
Luke didn't know how to do happy.
And when you don't know how to do happy, you sure as hell don't know how to make someone else happy.
Luke sighed. He knew what the real problem was.
Happy was foreign to him.
Misery fit like a glove.
He hated feeling like this, but the misery, it was comfortable. He knew it. He knew it well. And eventually, you have to return to the place you feel most like yourself. And Luke never felt more like himself as he did whenever he was the one being left behind.
There was a chilling sense of safety in being at Rock Bottom.
Because at Rock Bottom, no matter how alone you are, at least you can take comfort in knowing that all the cards are on the table, with no ace left in the hole.
No surprises down here.
And Luke was awfully sick and tired of surprises.
Joining
Luke heard a knock at the door, and sat up in bed, trying to shake off the disorientation he felt from being yanked out of a deep sleep as he had just been. He stumbled to the door as a second, louder round of knocking echoed through the apartment.
Luke flung open the door. "Lorelai?"
Lorelai smiled nervously. "Hi. I woke you up, didn't I?"
Luke shook his head as he stifled a yawn. "Yeah. No. I mean, it's okay. Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly.
Lorelai nodded. "Yeah," she assured him, not very convincingly. "It's just...Rory's gone."
Luke reached out and rubbed Lorelai's arm. "I know. I wanted to call and check on you, but I thought you might want to be alone to adjust. Should I have called?" he asked.
"No, I did want to be alone today. But it's nice to know you wanted to check on me," she smiled. "The house is so quiet. I just needed to get out. It's late, I shouldn't have come by here...so late," she stammered.
"Do you want to come in?" Luke offered, stepping aside to let Lorelai by.
Lorelai gave Luke a grateful look and wandered into his apartment, feeling out of place. She smiled when she saw the battered old blue baseball cap hanging on a chair at the kitchen table. It was nice to see that hat again.
Luke stood by the door still, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Lorelai had been here hundreds of times, but that was before..."Do you want something? Coffee? I can make you a burger if you're hungry," Luke offered weakly.
Lorelai turned around. "We need to talk," she whispered.
Luke swallowed hard. "Uh-oh," he muttered.
Lorelai sighed. "Where are we, Luke?" she asked.
Luke blinked. "In...my kitchen?" he replied, confused.
"No, where are we, right now, the whole 'us' thing?" Lorelai continued, looking agitated. "Are we back together? Are we working on things? Where are we?"
Luke slowly moved toward Lorelai. "I don't know," he answered honestly.
"You kissed me," Lorelai whispered.
"You kissed me back," Luke countered, reaching out and fingering a lock of Lorelai's hair.
Lorelai stepped back. "It's not that easy, Luke," she said, a hint of anger in her voice. "You don't just throw a party, kiss me, give me a necklace, and 'voila', everything is fixed, you know. If we're going to try to work things out, we have a lot of talking to do. We have to figure out what really went wrong between us," she ranted, tears sparkling in her eyes. "So much has happened since we broke up. We can't just pretend it never happened."
Luke sighed wearily. "I know," he agreed.
"You shut me out," she reminded him accusingly.
"I know," Luke muttered, closing his eyes.
"You pushed me away." Lorelai's cheeks flushed as her anger mounted.
"I did," Luke replied, gazing at Lorelai sorrowfully.
"There's just so much we have to figure out," Lorelai moaned, leaning against the counter.
Luke eyed Lorelai warily. "I know that, Lorelai," he stated. "But we both have a lot of things to work on. You handled things wrong yourself. You went to Christopher," he said through gritted teeth. "That's a sting that's never going to go away completely."
Lorelai hung her head. "I'm sorry," she whimpered as the tears flowed.
Luke walked up to Lorelai, placing his hands on the counter with her in between his arms. "I'm sorry, too," he said softly "I'm willing to work on this if you are," he promised.
Lorelai looked up to meet Luke's gaze. "We have so much to talk about," she repeated. "So much to work on."
Luke sighed, and leaned his forehead on Lorelai's, unsure of what to do with himself.
"Can we start talking about it tomorrow?" he heard Lorelai barely whisper.
Luke raised his head. "What do you mean?" he rasped.
Lorelai cleared her throat, not breaking eye contact with Luke. "Can we start working on things tomorrow? Right now, can't you just be kissing me?" she asked breathlessly.
Luke didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around Lorelai, pulling her close. His mouth sought out hers, and he moaned when he felt her soft lips on his again, feeling her desire blend with his. He traced a path across her bottom lip with his tongue, moaning more deeply when he heard her gasp and felt her fingernails graze his back over his shirt.
Luke pressed his lips more insistently against Lorelai's, his tongue darting out greedily as she parted her lips. Lorelai met Luke's tongue with her own, battling for control. Luke groaned as he felt Lorelai's tongue explore his mouth, darting around fervently. They parted, both gasping for air. Lorelai closed her eyes, overcome with the realization that she and Luke were so close again after so long. Luke took advantage of Lorelai's moment of distraction and lowered his head, hungry to taste her flesh again. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her hips tight against his as he dragged his lips down her neck. Lorelai gasped at the familiar sensation of his stubble against her skin and sank her hand into the hair on the back of Luke's head.
"Oh, Luke," Lorelai sighed, shivering as he sucked and licked a path toward the soft skin underneath her chin. Lorelai leaned her head back to allow Luke better access.
Luke uttered a low growl at her acquiescence and nipped at her throat with his teeth. "Tomorrow," Luke rasped. "Tomorrow we'll talk."
Lorelai nodded as she unconsciously ground her hips against Luke's very obvious erection.
"Tomorrow," she gasped as she found Luke's earlobe and sucked it into her mouth.
"Oh, god," Luke hissed as Lorelai's tongue massaged his ear. "I missed you so much."
Lorelai pulled Luke's face into view. "I've missed you too, Babe," she whispered huskily. "Now take off your shirt."
Luke grinned slyly and pulled off his shirt, closing his eyes as Lorelai traced a path with her fingers from his belly button to his shoulders. "I've missed that too," he moaned.
"Is that all you missed?" she asked shakily, as she fingered a button on her blouse.
Luke stared the hands that were slowly working to expose their owner. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara.
"Mmm," Lorelai replied approvingly, watching Luke's tongue slowly drag across his lower lip. "There's something I've definitely missed."
Luke inhaled sharply at the implication and reached behind Lorelai, quickly pulling down the zipper to loosen her skirt. He held the flimsy fabric in place as he searched her face for her assurance that this was what she really wanted. Lorelai stared at him, wide-eyed, and nodded encouragingly. Luke removed his hands from her hips, allowing the skirt to fall to the floor.
"Lorelai," Luke whispered, rubbing her sides with his hands up to her bra and back down to her panties repeatedly, hardly comprehending that he was able to touch her so intimately again.
"What is it?" Lorelai murmured, gently trailing kisses up Luke's bicep and over his shoulder.
Luke groaned. "This doesn't fix anything," he muttered, trying to keep control of his emotions, his actions.
"Not a band-aid," Lorelai said. "Just reminding ourselves what we're fighting for, right?"
Luke nodded, and pulled her tight against him, covering her mouth with his own, kissing her with all of his might.
"Lips," Lorelai moaned as they parted for air. "Miss those lips."
"Miss all of you," Luke panted.
Luke dipped his head, ran his lips along her clavicle, as he hooked his thumbs around the fabric still covering her hips. Lorelai chuckled as she felt him push her panties down.
"You want to have me in your kitchen, on this, the evening of our reconciliation?" she asked innocently as she stepped out of the crumpled panties that were draped around her ankles.
Luke looked up at Lorelai. "Bed too far away," he grunted as he grazed his teeth along her shoulder.
Luke straightened up and spun Lorelai around, walking her backward toward the kitchen table, nibbling at her ear as she blindly fumbled with his belt and jean fly.
"Anywhere you want me," Lorelai sighed as she slid his jeans over his hips and gripped his backside. Luke lifted Lorelai and sat her on the edge of the table.
Luke ran his hands up and down her thighs, trying not to focus too hard on her near total nudity. "Forgot something," he smiled as her reached behind her and unclasped her bra.
"Oops," Lorelai giggled as she shrugged the straps off her shoulders, reveling in the familiarity of their intimate dance.
Luke flung the bra over his shoulder and bent in to kiss Lorelai, suckling her lower lip almost reverently as he brushed his fingertips over the swells of her breasts. Lorelai slowly moved to lay back, and Luke followed. He abruptly placed his hand in the small of her back when she had lowered herself back onto her elbows. Lorelai looked at Luke questioningly, wondering if he was having second thoughts.
"Far enough," he grunted and straightened up. Luke pulled a chair up to the table, and Lorelai's breath caught in her throat when she saw a wicked gleam form in his eyes. She'd seen that gleam once or twice in the past. It always appeared when Luke was feeling particularly bold. She shivered excitedly as she wondered what he was about to do.
Luke sat in the chair, a slow smile forming on his lips.
"What are you going to do?" Lorelai grinned.
Luke remained silent as he leaned forward, taking her hips and pulling her to the edge of the table. He grasped her ankles with both hands and slowly, methodically began massaging his way ever upward. Luke's eyes met Lorelai's as his hands slowly slid up her legs, reaching around, gently but firmly squeezing her calves, running over and behind her knees, and finally reaching her thighs. The gleam in his eyes reappeared as he slid his thumbs slowly up the soft skin of her inner thighs. Lorelai moaned appreciatively as his thumbs kept coming dangerously close to finding out how aroused she was, but Luke was holding back, too wrapped up in reacquainting himself with Lorelai's body to give in to his desire yet.
Luke dipped his hands between Lorelai's legs, letting out a soft whimper as he slowly spread them apart, exposing Lorelai fully to himself. Lorelai sucked in her breath as she saw the sheer desire dance across Luke's face. She squirmed as Luke remained seated, not moving his hands from her thighs. He stared intently at her sex, breathing heavily as his lust increased.
"Stay still," Luke whispered, eyes not wavering. He moved his hands further up Lorelai's thighs, thumbs resting where her legs and hips met. He gently pushed, spreading Lorelai's legs wider still.
"Luke," she begged.
"Shh," Luke shushed her gently. "Want to see," he rasped, staring intently. "Want to see what I've missed."
Luke moved his thumbs closer, gently teasing the outer reaches of her most sensitive areas. Lorelai bit her lip and fought the urge to close her eyes, enraptured by Luke's intensity as he studied her. Slowly Luke raised his right hand, and extended one finger, softly grazing her entrance and working his way slowly, lightly, up the outside of her lips, tracing a path, as light as a feather, around the soft covering over her clit, working his way down the other side, and returning to her opening where he had started.
"You're so wet," Luke breathed, still not taking his eyes off of the sight before him. "So wet," he moaned as he moved his finger up her center, trailing his way back to her clit, with slightly more pressure.
"Luke," Lorelai moaned softly. "You're killing me."
Luke nodded distractedly. "That's...the point," he muttered as he slowly moved his face toward her core, eyes finally travelling up to meet Lorelai's.
"Missed this," he grinned as he darted his tongue out to tease her opening.
"So much," Lorelai agreed, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through her body as his tongue came into contact with her. She gave up the fight to keep her eyes open, and allowed her head to fall back, focusing only on the way his tongue felt on her.
Luke pressed his face against Lorelai's sex, inhaling her intoxicating smell. "So good," Luke moaned as he gave up his own battle for self-control. He gripped her hips as he began desperately stroking her clit with his tongue, circling it, lapping at it, sucking at it.
"Oh god, Luke," Lorelai hissed as she felt the pleasure build rapidly inside of her. She felt a wave of heat wash over her, and she uncontrollably began to grind against Luke's mouth as his tongue's labors became firmer, more insistent, faster. Luke moaned against her and Lorelai gasped at the sensations the vibrations sent through her.
"Luke," she seethed. "Luke, I'm going to..." Lorelai's hips suddenly bucked involuntarily as Luke began sucking her clit vigorously, humming against her to heighten the sensation.
Lorelai wildly reached out her hand and clasped the back of Luke's head, pushing him firmly against her. "Luke," she cried. "Coming..I'm coming..." she wailed as she felt her orgasm take over her body, her hips rocking uncontrollably. As Lorelai's cries of pleasure diminished, Luke slowly raised his head, smiling as she came back to reality.
"Hi," he whispered as Lorelai looked down at him, still panting from the experience.
"Hi," she smiled back shakily.
Luke grinned and stood up, leaning over Lorelai.
"Kiss me," he growled. Lorelai complied willingly, pulling his face to hers and suckling his lower lip, still glistening from her own wetness.
"Remember that?" Luke rasped against her mouth. "Remember what you taste like on my lips?"
"Yes," Lorelai moaned, kissing Luke more deeply. "Tastes wonderful."
"Wonderful," Luke agreed, plunging his tongue into Lorelai's mouth. "Bed," he ordered, wrapping her legs around his middle and lifting her with ease.
"Yessir," Lorelai agreed, lavishing Luke's neck with kisses as he carried her into the bedroom.
Luke knelt on his bed, lowering Lorelai to her back. "Missed the flannel sheets, too," she murmured. Luke stared down at Lorelai, immobilized by the sight of her spread across his bed once again, her dark curls framing her beautiful face.
"We're really going to try this again?" Luke asked, not really sure if he dreaming or not.
"You jump, I jump, Jack," Lorelai whispered.
Luke grinned and pulled off his boxer shorts. He positioned himself over Lorelai, drinking in the sight of her body beneath him, waiting for him.
Lorelai reached up and pulled Luke's face close to hers, kissing his lips softly. Luke closed his eyes and sighed as their tongues intertwined. He broke the kiss and moved lower, kissing her chin, her throat.
Lorelai arched her back as Luke's mouth found the expanse of flesh between her breasts. She moaned softly as she felt his tongue flit across the underside of one breast, then the other. He kissed and nipped his way up toward her right nipple, gazing at it for a moment before drawing it into his mouth, his tongue massaging it lightly into erectness. Luke teased her left nipple with the palm of his hand, as his tongue continued to caress her right. His actions became more fervent as he alternated his attentions between each breast, teasing, licking, sucking, nipping, squeezing, rubbing.
Lorelai writhed passionately as Luke moved his mouth further down her body, circling his tongue around her belly button, dipping in and out of it enticingly. "Luke," she moaned, gripping his shoulders tightly. "I don't think I can take much more of this."
Luke smiled. "What do you suggest I should do?" he asked as he pressed his thumb against her clit, rhythmically circling as Lorelai gasped and clutched wildly at the sheets beneath her.
"In..." Lorelai panted as Luke increased the pressure of his thumb. "Inside. Want you inside of me," she said through clenched teeth.
"As you wish," Luke whispered as he positioned himself between Lorelai's legs. He rubbed the tip of his cock against Lorelai's opening, inhaling sharply at the realization of how ready for him she was. Luke looked at Lorelai, his breath catching as he saw her staring back at him, eyes glistening.
"We're really here?" he asked, still not completely convinced that he and Lorelai had found their ways back to one another.
"We're really here," Lorelai assured Luke. "Katie and Hubbell, finally getting their acts together."
Luke grinned. "It's about freaking time." He bent down and kissed Lorelai deeply, entering her slowly as his tongue explored her mouth.
Lorelai wrapped her arms around Luke as he sank into her, shivering as his flesh pressed against hers.
"I love you," Lorelai gasped as Luke began thrusting into her, slowly, steadily.
"Love you," Luke moaned as he felt Lorelai's inner walls clamp tightly around his cock. "Want to make you happy," he pleaded, increasing his pace.
Lorelai felt her hips involuntarily thrusting to meet Luke's thrusts, felt her hands wander up his arms, across his chest, over his shoulders, up and down his back. She reveled in the familiarity, the knowledge of his body, the awareness that he was inside her again, making her feel the way no other man was ever able to.
Luke snaked his arm behind Lorelai, pulling her up to him as he leaned his weight on one arm, still thrusting rhythmically. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, rejoicing silently as he felt the same old feelings welling up inside of him. He had forgotten how much he could want her, could need her, could need to be inside her. He felt her hands reaching to graze his hips, his ass, and he felt his desire climbing with each stroke.
Luke raised Lorelai's leg around his waist and rolled them so that he was on his back.
"Hi," Lorelai smiled as she found herself suddenly on top of Luke, feeling him throbbing within her.
"Hi," Luke whispered back, gasping as he felt Lorelai slowly rolling her hips in a circular path, as she ran her tongue along his jaw line. Lorelai pushed herself upright and Luke could only stare as she methodically began to pump herself up and down on his rigid cock.
"Oh, god," he muttered as he grasped her hips, meeting Lorelai thrust for thrust. Lorelai stared at Luke through half-closed eyelids, enjoying the way his mouth fell open as she moved to caress her own breasts, alternately rubbing and squeezing in time with her undulating hips.
"Lorelai," Luke moaned as he moved his thumb between her legs, rubbing her glistening clit as she increased her pace. Lorelai threw her head back at Luke's touch, feeling the combination of the pressure of his thumb on her clit and the heat of his cock sliding in and out of her, and she couldn't contain herself any longer.
"Luke," she cried as she felt her orgasm build. "God, Luke, I love you," she screamed as she began riding him as hard as she could.
She shook with the intensity of her climax, barely hearing Luke encouraging her along. "Come for me, Lorelai," he begged as he tried to contain himself. He felt her inner walls spasm wildly around him and he sat up, rolling Lorelai onto her back again.
"Miss this," Luke panted as he thrust into Lorelai, who was still caught in the throes of her orgasm. Luke quickened his pace, unable to control himself any longer. "Miss feeling you come," he moaned, burying his head in her neck as he rode out the convulsions his body was suddenly wracked with.
"Come with me, Luke," Lorelai gasped, as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Come with me, now."
Luke thrust wildly as he sank deeper into Lorelai. "Oh, god," he cried as he felt the ecstasy overtake him. He thrust hard three more times and exploded within Lorelai.
"God," Luke cried as he felt the orgasm surge throughout his body. "Lorelai," he rasped, collapsing on top of her.
They lay still. The only sound was that of their ragged breathing as they slowly recovered from their lovemaking.
"Wow," Lorelai finally whispered, running her fingers through Luke's hair.
Luke could only nod. He was suddenly convinced that his spine had turned to jelly.
"You okay in there?" Lorelai asked, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.
Luke nodded again and slowly rolled to lay beside Lorelai.
He stared at Lorelai solemnly. "You're here," he said quietly.
"Not going anywhere," Lorelai promised, stroking Luke's cheek.
Luke closed his eyes, content. Lorelai squirmed up against Luke, pulling on his arm so he would spoon up behind her. Luke complied without a fight, pulling the bed sheet up around them.
They lay there together, hovering somewhere between asleep and awake for several minutes.
Lorelai thought Luke had fallen asleep when he suddenly shifted and pulled her closer. Luke kissed Lorelai below her earlobe.
"Whatcha thinking, Babe?" Lorelai asked, reaching back and caressing Luke's face.
Luke sighed. "You know what?" he began.
"What?" Lorelai asked.
"Katie and Hubbell were idiots," Luke proclaimed.
"Yeah," Lorelai nodded, smiling happily. "They really were."
Dialogue I
"Why didn't you tell me about April?"
"I didn't know how to."
"You just open your mouth and say,"Hey, Guess what I just found out...""
"Easier said than done."
"Really, did you think it would change how I felt about you?"
"Yeah, I did."
"That's just dumb."
"Yeah."
"You should have told me. I could have handled it. We would have dealt with it."
"I didn't handle it well when I found out. How could I know that you would be able to deal with it?"
"God, why didn't you just tell me?"
"I wasn't ready to watch you leave."
"I wouldn't have."
"I didn't know that then."
"I wouldn't have left."
"I know that now."
"You should have told me."
"I know."
"I should have been involved."
"I know. I'm sorry. I got scared."
"Of what?"
"Lots of things. Everything."
"Like?"
"You wouldn't want to give me time to get to know April. You'd get jealous. You wouldn't like her. She wouldn't like ME. She'd like you better than she'd like me. I'd lose you. I'd lose her. I'd lose me. I don't know, there was so much I was afraid of and I just shut down. I didn't know how to handle it all, and I didn't know how to ask you for help. Suddenly, I'm a father, and I didn't know how to be a father, and I wanted to be her father, but I didn't know how to do it, and I didn't have my own father to ask how to be a father, and yeah, you're a mother, but you had Rory's entire lifetime to learn how to be a mother. I had no warning. I was just suddenly a father to a teenager. a teenage GIRL. Like I know anything about that. And then when I did tell you, you were always so uptight about the subject, so I didn't think I COULD come to you."
"I was uptight because you were shutting me out. You declared April off-limits to me."
"I didn't. I was just trying to get to know her. I thought it was better for the two of us to get used to each other before introducing you into the mix."
"I wouldn't have tried to mother her. I would have just wanted to be her friend."
"I was having a hard enough time getting her to like me. If you got involved, I wouldn't have stood a chance."
"You're so dumb. You're a pretty likeable guy when you put your mind to it. She would have loved you regardless."
"Hey, it took you eight years to figure out that I'm a likeable guy. I didn't want to take that long to make my own daughter realize that herself."
"And then Anna..."
"Christ, don't get me started on Anna."
"Why did you let her have so much control over you? Anna had more say in our relationship than I did, in the end."
"Can't you understand what was going on with her? Anna wasn't exactly a great love in my life. We were together for a while. It never developed into anything big. I didn't love her. I liked her. And I don't think I rated very high for her, either. I mean, come on, I was one of three potential fathers, obviously we didn't have a deep connection when we were together."
"So?"
"So, April's her daughter. She raised her. She was there every step of the way. I wasn't. What court would side with me? A mother for thirteen years, or a dad for a few weeks? I didn't have a leg to stand on. I was walking on eggshells, trying to get to know my kid and not making any false moves that would get that taken away from me. Anna had made it very clear that I was there by invitation only, and that invitation could be revoked at any time."
"I don't like that woman."
"She didn't like you very much, either."
"That's not fair."
"What?"
"Implying that I could be responsible for you losing April."
"I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't want to be put into the position of having to choose between you and April."
"You did choose, really."
"I guess I did. That's the one thing I can't apologize for, though. I can't apologize for choosing my kid."
"No. I guess you can't. But you should have at least recognized what that meant."
"What did it mean?"
"That you're a good father. That putting your child before your own happiness means you're a father. Even if it makes you a dumb guy."
"Touche."
"You should have stood up for yourself."
"I did, eventually. But all it accomplished was backing Anna into a corner, and she still tried to take April away from me."
"But you fought back."
"I didn't think I was going to win."
"But you didn't just give up. You brought out the big guns."
"I brought you out."
"Yeah, ironic isn't it?"
"Ironic?"
"Ultimately, you credit me for being responsible for helping you keep April in your life."
"Yeah, ironic."
"I meant every word I said in that letter."
"You don't know what it meant to hear that stuff. I ruined what we had, and you still said all that. I barely held it together when the judge was reading your letter."
"Aw, Luke, you old softie."
"She read your letter, and I knew. I knew I would always love you. Damn, that hurt. Knowing I loved you and wasn't going to be able to get you back. That you were with someone else. I would have lost the case without your help, and I couldn't even really thank you. I didn't have that access anymore. All I wanted to do was run out of there and hug you. And I couldn't. Even if I lost, you still were the only reason why I even felt like I had a fighting chance."
"You couldn't have lost. You're a good father, and it shows. And if you had let me, I would have been there telling you what a great father I always knew you would be someday."
"And how could you possibly know that?"
"Rory. I saw how you treated Rory all those years. You were more of a father to her than Christopher had ever been. You loved her. You protected her. And you didn't even have to. That speaks volumes about you, my friend."
"Anna's choices spoke volumes about me, as far as I was concerned."
"Meaning?"
"They made me wonder about things, that's all I'm saying."
"What things?"
"Like, what does it say about me when someone decided that the better option was to raise a child fatherless rather than being stuck with me as a dad?"
"If that's what she thought, she didn't know you very well at all."
"I was afraid she was right. I didn't want to find out that she was right all along. I didn't want to make a baby with you, and then find out too late I had no business trying to raise a kid, that I really was a lousy father, that I was a failure at being a part of a family."
"So you pushed me away. You let me go."
"I pushed."
"I didn't consider that."
"What?"
"That you letting me walk away wasn't because you didn't love me. You let me go because you thought you were going to let me down."
"I don't have a very good track record with Happily Ever After."
"Who does?"
"Most of your Disney princesses do."
"This is true. But I don't see any talking mice running around town, so maybe you should lower your bar a little."
"I'm learning."
"So what makes you think we can do things differently now?"
"I've learned things. I think I may have actually had some growth in the time we were apart."
"And what have you learned?"
"That I AM a good father. That I can be a father from the start. I know I can do it. I know I want it. I know that I can survive having to take my kid to the hospital, I know that I can survive field trips. I know that I can survive prepubescent emotional breakdowns. I know that I can stand up for myself and win. I know that my daughter loves me. I couldn't say any of that before. And I know I love you, and I know I want a family with you. And I know I'm never going to let anything get in the way of that ever again. I'm ready to be happy. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to stay where I belong, and I belong with you. You belong with me. Screw anyone or anything that tries to tell us differently."
"I think I like the new and improved Luke Danes."
"I think I like him, too."
Dialogue II
"And then there's Christopher."
"Are you sure we should talk about Christopher? I'm having more fun talking about all of your issues."
"You have plenty of issues yourself. Time to shift some blame, here."
"Ugh."
"You cheated on me."
"Technically, I didn't."
"You're walking a thin, shaky line if that's your logic."
"It was pretty clear that we had broken up."
"It was clear to me that you were pissed off that I didn't run off and elope with you that night. I didn't hear anything about breaking up completely."
"I thought we were through."
"You should have mentioned that to me before you went to him."
"But..."
"No, you don't have a fight, assume you break up, and sleep with someone within two hours."
"No."
"Christ, do you know how insane that made me?"
"I have a good idea."
"Not good enough. I was ranting and raving at you, and you weren't even there. I was sure someone was going to catch me talking to myself and have me carted off to the loony bin."
"Talking to yourself?"
"Yeah, only to you. I kept hearing you rubbing it in, in my head. We were even discussing socks."
"Socks?"
"Yeah, socks. Like Nicole?"
"Oh. Ow."
"Yeah, you really know how to hit a guy where it hurts, you know that?"
"I'm sorry."
"You should be. That was a low blow."
"I was confused. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't think. I just found myself on his doorstep."
"And his penis accidentally just fell..."
"Don't. We don't need to rehash the gory details."
"Yeah. I might have to punch him again."
"You've punched Christopher enough for this lifetime. Save some for the next incarnation."
"Why did you do it?"
"I just told you, I was confused."
"That's bullshit. You don't wander into someone else's bed out of confusion. You had reasons. I've 'fessed up about my reasoning, at least give me the same courtesy."
"I was alone. I felt so alone, and Christopher made me feel less lonely."
"And that's it?"
"Yes. No. I guess I just wanted to..."
"What?"
"I just was so angry and so hurt and..."
"Yeah?"
"I needed to vent, I needed to do something, anything."
"Come on, Lorelai..."
"I wanted to...I guess I just..."
"Just say it. You know it. I know it. Let's just have it out in the open so we can move on, okay?"
"I wanted to hurt you."
"Yeah."
"I wanted to lash out at you."
"And what better way to do it?"
"Sleep with Christopher."
"You knew I'd find out eventually."
"I did."
"And on some level, you wanted me to know, so you could make me feel bad."
"As bad as you had made me feel."
"So you went for the one thing that would completely devastate me."
"I did. But I didn't plan it out. I didn't go there thinking that I was going to show you. I don't think I even realized what my motivation was until much later."
"I get it. I deserved the lashing out. Maybe not the sex with Christopher part, but I get wanting to hurt me. It worked, though. You hit a Grand Slam with that move."
"I wish I didn't do such a good job. I wish I had just done something stupid like slashed your tires, poured sugar in your salt shakers, told Taylor you were having latent homosexual fantasies about him..."
"Wow."
"What?"
"The Taylor thing, that would have hurt. That would have been...evil."
"See? I had many options."
"You should have stuck with the salt shakers."
"I'll remember that for next time."
"There's not going to be a next time."
"Right. Because we're smart now, right?"
"Right. So the marriage thing, was that an extension of trying to twist the knife you had already buried in my gut?"
"No. It was...I don't know. I guess I figured that maybe I should go back to the beginning, that maybe I belonged with Christopher all along and that was why I just couldn't make it work with you. With anyone."
"Boy, you suck at self-analysis."
"Yeah, I do. Hence the trail of broken relationships."
"Were you happy?"
"I wasn't miserable. I just felt...out of it. Sort of like I wasn't in sync with Chris. But I thought it was my fault, not that I had made a mistake."
"But when you got married, were you happy? When you said "I do", did you feel good right then?"
"Yeah, kind of."
"Kind of?"
"I had a lot going on in my head at the time."
"Like what?"
"I was worried about how my parents were going to take it, I knew Rory would be upset with me for doing something so huge without talking to her first. I was distracted, but I was caught up in the moment. Here he was willing to just marry me at the drop of a hat, and I couldn't..."
"Couldn't what?"
"I couldn't figure out why you wouldn't do the same thing. I couldn't understand why you could say you loved me, but wouldn't marry me. That hurt, Luke. You saying no to me hurt as badly as finding out about me and Christopher hurt you. That was your Grand Slam."
"So you married him just because he wanted to marry you?"
"I guess so. I guess I've never really thought about it like that."
"You married him because he asked."
"I married him because he wanted me. It felt good to know someone wanted me, the whole package."
"And I'm the idiot?"
"We're both idiots."
"Agreed."
"I've always wanted you, Lorelai. I may not have known how to show it, I may have pushed you away, but I still wanted you. I can't remember ever not wanting you. I've wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you."
"You need to learn how to show it, then."
"I think I have learned. I think I've finally figured thing outs. I think my problem has always been not being able to accept you wanting me. Do you still want me?"
"I'm here aren't I? Of course I want you."
"Okay. Then I believe you. You want me. I can get behind that. I couldn't accept that before."
"You really believe that I want you?"
"I do."
"Wow, maybe you have learned some things. The Luke I broke up with...well, let's just say once he wrapped his mind around a concept, no matter how wrong he was, he held on tight."
"Well, I'm still that way."
"How so?"
"I'm not letting go of the concept of us again. I'm not budging. So, be forewarned. You're not getting rid of me ever again."
"Good."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Have you learned anything from this mess we made of our lives?"
"I have."
"What's that?"
"I've learned that I was wrong. I thought relationships meant everything just automatically worked, just like in fairy tales. That if you really loved someone, everything would just fall into place. You have to work at love, all the time, 24/7. Love isn't enough. Love is just the cornerstone. You have to build the rest, you have to break a sweat to keep things together. I was looking for that Happily Ever After you mentioned before, and that isn't fair. I learned that Pretty Damn Happy Most Of The Time is just as good. I can still love you, even when you're bugging me. It doesn't mean the end of the world if we don't agree on something. It just means we need to find a middle ground."
"I bug you?"
"Yeah, what with the ranting and raging and the anti-festival mentality, the refusal to put a paper turkey on your counter to celebrate Thanksgiving. You can be tough to deal with sometimes."
"So why choose to deal with that again?"
"Because I still love it. I still love you. I still love watching you just be Luke."
"Masochist."
"Maybe. But I've learned one thing that's going to stick."
"And that is?"
"That I don't work without you. That you are my whole package. That I want to love you, I want to fight with you, I want to go to baseball games with you, I want to drag you to town meetings, I want to live with you, I want to go to sleep with you, I want to wake up next to you, I want to make babies with you, I want to make dinner with you, I want it all. I will never have that with anyone else because they aren't you. No one has ever made me feel like me before, not until I was with you. I always felt like I had to behave a certain way with whoever I was with at the time, and I always felt like I was acting. That's why my relationships never worked. Because I never got a chance to know what it was like to just be me with them. You let me be me. You bring out the best in me. You don't try to change me, you just try to keep up. You accept me. And I wouldn't want you to be anything other than you. And that, my friend, is the kind of middle I can be happy with. You complete me. You had me at hello."
"Okay, knock it off, I've seen Jerry McGuire."
"Sorry, but I gotta be me."
"S'ok, I like you, random movie quotes, and all."
"Luke, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. We're good now."
"No, I need you to really accept my apology. I'm so sorry I hurt you, and I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
"I accept your apology. I do. But you don't have to spend the rest of your life making it up to me. Just spend the rest of your life with me."
"That I can do."
"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I shut you out, I'm sorry I pushed you away, I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to go to you when I should have. I'm not going to do that ever again. I've learned my lesson."
"I accept your apology, too."
"Good, so, clean slate?"
"Clean slate. We have purged our demons. Nothing but clear skies and smooth sailing ahead."
"And when it does get a little rough, we'll deal. Together."
"Together."
"We should make that official."
"And how do we do that?"
"I get a ring, I give it to you, we pick a date, we get married, and we get started, already."
"You already gave me a ring."
"Need a new one. New start, new ring, new game plan."
"Okay, well, you get that ring, and we'll start planning."
"I'm doing it right this time. You need to go shopping, find a dress."
"A dress?"
"Find the kind of dress you want to be wearing when you get engaged. I may not be able to give you a perfect life, but I can give you a perfect proposal. So go out, find the perfect dress, preferably black, and I'll do the rest."
"What are you going to do?"
"You'll find out. Anticipate me on bended knee. The rest is going to be a surprise. I'll have my people contact your people for the date and time."
"I'll tell my people to keep my calendar open."
"Good deal."
"So, Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Good talk, huh?"
"Yeah, definitely a good talk."
Duality
Luke leaned toward Lorelai. "I like the dress," he smiled, trying not to leer at the plunging neckline.
"Should I flip my hair a couple of times to add to the effect?" Lorelai smirked.
Luke shrugged. "I think you've got enough dramatic effect going with the bare shoulders and that slit thing on the dress going on around the thighs, anything else would be icing on the cake."
"I can't believe this is the restaurant you chose. Very swanky," Lorelai mused, glancing around at the surroundings. Luke had selected an exclusive French restaurant in Hartford for the evening, and Lorelai was finding it difficult to look at him without thinking very dirty thoughts. He was clean-shaven, hair freshly cut, and wearing the most expensive suit she had ever seen him willingly add to his closet full of flannel shirts and tees. It was well-tailored, dark blue, and he was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a tie that Luke claimed was made by "Tommy Hil-frigger or one of those other fruity clothing guys." She wondered if Luke actually knew how well he had done with his selection, because the suit made his blue eyes pop in a way she had never seen before. Frankly, every time they made eye contact, Lorelai thought she was going to either melt into a puddle where she sat, or leap over the table into his lap. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that this was clearly the night that Luke was going to officially pop the question, or whether it was his virgin leap into GQ caliber grooming, but the man's eyes were absolutely sparkling tonight.
Luke idly played with Lorelai's hands as she inspected him. "What are you thinking?" he asked shyly.
Lorelai grinned. "I was thinking, do you have any idea how much that wine you ordered is going to cost? I don't want to ruin such a perfect evening by having to perform CPR when you get the bill."
"I did my homework," Luke assured her. "The only thing I'm worried about is what the heck happens when they bring it to the table."
"I think the sommelier will pour it into the glasses, and then we drink it," Lorelai explained dryly.
"But that's the thing. We have a wine-guy. I've never had a wine-guy before. I just know he's going to pour a glass and expect me to do something before he serves it," Luke worried.
"Well, I don't know anything about wine, but having gone on a date or two with pretentious men, I can coach you along. If he pours you a glass, you just pick it up, hold the glass at eye level, swirl it while frowning at the glass, then you sniff it, swirl it again, only this time while frowning down into the glass. Then you take a big sip, but you slurp it. Make sure you slurp. Then think for a minute, frown again, nod your head and say something snotty, like "Intriguing," or "Do I detect a note of..." something stupid like rose, or citrus, or some kind of tree. Maybe even 'new car scent' to mix things up. Either way, he'll take it as you assenting to pouring two full glasses and go away," Lorelai detailed.
"What does any of that accomplish?" Luke chuckled.
"I have no idea," Lorelai said cheerfully. "I just can't believe we are in a restaurant with our own wine-guy. How ritzy are we?"
"Top of the world, Ma," Luke whispered as the sommelier arrived with their bottle of wine. Luke shot Lorelai a look of borderline panic. Lorelai frowned dramatically at Luke, hoping he would take it as a reminder of her instructions.
The sommelier presented the wine to Luke, who frowned on cue and nodded his head approvingly. The sommelier nodded and poured a small amount in a glass and placed it in front of Luke. Luke gave Lorelai another sidelong glance, and Lorelai stifled a giggle as she watched Luke try to maintain a straight face as he picked up the glass.
Luke held up the wine, swirling it in the glass. "Hmm," he intoned with a frown. Luke brought down the glass, and sniffed at the contents, adding another swirl and a frown before he slurped at the drink. Luke screwed up his face, working his mouth in a comical fashion. Lorelai grabbed her napkin and gave an exaggerated cough to hide the snort of laughter she almost let out.
Luke frowned at the glass and set it down abruptly. "Intriguing," he stated to the sommelier. "A very bold blend for this vineyard, don't you agree?" he asked.
The sommelier nodded enthusiastically. "Indeed it is, sir," he said. "You have a very sophisticated palette."
"Thank you," Luke replied solemnly as the sommelier poured their wine and made his exit.
"Oh my god," Lorelai laughed.
Luke covered his mouth as he laughed along with Lorelai. "That was, by far, the most idiotic thing I've ever participated in, in my entire life."
Lorelai wiped away the tears that were forming at the corners of her eyes. "Way to improv, Babe, you really missed your calling in life."
"The stage was always my second love, right behind working a grill," he grinned.
Luke led Lorelai to his truck after the meal. As he opened the door for Lorelai, he leaned in for a soft kiss. "Sorry that you got all dressed up to be chauffeured around in an old beat up Chevy," he apologized.
Lorelai smiled. "It's okay. I like your truck. At least it has a vintage vibe going, while my Jeep only has a fast-food under the car seat kind of vibe happening."
"You're never going to get that funk to go away completely," Luke groaned, wrinkling his nose at the thought of the rotting French fries Lorelai had unearthed a few weeks ago.
"So where next?" Lorelai asked as they pulled out of their parking space.
"Stars Hollow," Luke said.
"So the swanky part of the evening is over?" Lorelai pouted.
"I think you've had enough swank for one night," Luke grinned. "Swanky theater production, swanky French food. You could barely eat your swanky dessert. You were picking at it like a hen."
"It was yummy, and I ate it all," Lorelai retorted.
"You didn't have to if you were full," Luke offered.
"I wasn't full."
"Then why all the picking?" Luke asked.
"Ummm...I was worried there may be a ring in it."
Luke laughed out loud. "Seriously, how dumb do you think I am? You attack desserts like a Hoover going after a dust-bunny!"
"Okay, so not a reasonable fear," Lorelai giggled. "So, the night seems to be winding down, and I have yet to see ring action. What gives?"
Luke smiled knowingly as he stayed focus on the road ahead. "Just keep your panties on, woman."
"What if I'm not wearing any?" Lorelai said seductively.
"Then don't sit on any cold park benches?" Luke replied.
They arrived in Stars Hollow, and Luke parked in front of the diner, jumping out to open the passenger door for Lorelai.
"So what now?" Lorelai asked, starting toward the diner.
Luke reached out and grabbed Lorelai's hand. "Not that way," he grunted as he pulled her back toward him.
"Ooh, intrigue," Lorelai smiled as she turned her face up to kiss Luke.
"I can be a mysterious man when I set my mind to it," Luke whispered, brushing Lorelai's lips with his own. "So, how have I done this evening? Do I have the romance thing down?"
"Flawlessly," Lorelai sighed, running her fingers through the hair that curled above Luke's collar. "Couldn't ask for a more perfect night."
"Night's not over yet," Luke murmured. "Come with me."
"Dirty!" Lorelai gasped as Luke took her hand and led her toward the town square.
"Stop it," Luke growled as they approached the gazebo.
"Where are we going?" Lorelai begged excitedly.
"Right here," Luke stated as they stood near the gazebo.
"And why are we here?" Lorelai asked, her eyes shining with anticipation.
"Because it's a good place to start," Luke grinned.
"It is?" Lorelai asked quizzically.
"Of course it is. Technically we're standing right about where we first got started. Remember that? I figured what better way to start over than going back to the beginning for us. This is where we had our first dance."
"Liz's wedding," Lorelai gasped.
"Yup," Luke smiled, glad that he didn't have to spell it all out for Lorelai.
"Oh my god, Luke, how perfect is this? You're a genius," Lorelai giggled.
"I told you already, I can't offer you a perfect life, but I can offer one perfect thing," he said, smiling shyly. Lorelai couldn't help but remember a similar smile playing across Luke's face when they first started their dance that night at Liz's wedding.
"Come here," Luke said, and led Lorelai up the stairs of the gazebo.
"Oh boy," Lorelai breathed, feeling butterflies take flight in her stomach as she realized Luke was really about to propose to her.
"Just stay here for a second," he said as he left Lorelai standing in the middle of the gazebo.
"Where are you going?" Lorelai asked, confused.
Luke disappeared behind the gazebo. His muffled voice floated up from somewhere near the ground. "Just hold on," she heard.
"Okay," she replied, unsure of what Luke was planning next. Suddenly the gazebo lit up, twinkly lights illuminating the night around them. Soft music began playing from some hidden source. She listened intently as she slowly turned herself around, drinking in the sight of what Luke had created for this moment. There were bunches of pink roses surrounding the inner circumference of the gazebo, rose petals scattered on the floor, and daisy chains wrapped around the pillars that she hadn't noticed in the dark.
Lorelai felt Luke return behind her. She continued staring at the lights and the flowers, tears welling up in her eyes. "Luke," she whispered reverently. "This is so..."
"Perfect?" Luke whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Magically," she breathed as she turned to face Luke. "Perfectly magical."
Luke smiled nervously. "Dance with me?"
Lorelai nodded, suddenly unable to find words as Luke led her in a slow waltz.
"Recognize the song?" Luke whispered huskily.
Lorelai laid her head on Luke's shoulder as they swayed to the music. "Our first dance," she whispered, a tear escaping from her eyes.
Luke smiled as he stepped back from Lorelai. "It was a good start, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Lorelai grinned through her tears. "A very good start," she sighed.
Luke grinned broadly, and lowered himself slowly to one knee. "And this is a good way to start our middle, don't you think?" he asked as he reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a sparkling engagement ring.
"Absolutely," Lorelai whispered, her voice quaking.
Luke nodded and took Lorelai's left hand, hoping she couldn't feel how shaky he was. "In that case, I want you to know that I love you more than I thought I was capable of ever loving another person. You're my world, my heart, my home. I want to spend my life doing everything I can to make you happy. Will you marry me, Lorelai Gilmore?"
Lorelai nodded vehemently as her tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "Yes," she gasped. "I'll marry you, Luke Danes."
Luke slid the engagement ring he had produced on Lorelai's hand and stood up, grinning ear to ear.
"I love you," he whispered as he pulled Lorelai close, kissing her deeply.
"I love you, too," Lorelai sobbed as she wrapped her arms around Luke. "We're finally getting our middle."
"About freaking time," Luke growled as he buried his face in Lorelai's hair and resumed their dance.
Dénouement
"So how are you holding up, there, Burger Boy?" Lorelai asked sleepily.
Luke looked over at Lorelai. "I'm doing. How are you?"
"Better," Lorelai sighed, yawning loudly.
"Still mad at me?" Luke asked.
"Yes."
"Damn."
Lorelai scowled at Luke. "You know, I understand the whole Dark Day concept, but I thought you were getting beyond it."
"I am," Luke defended himself. "I honestly didn't know I had the cell phone turned off. I must have accidentally hit the button as I was closing it."
"You need to keep yourself accessible. You promised you wouldn't shut me out anymore, especially now." Lorelai said, narrowing her eyes.
"Accident," Luke emphasized. "Accidents don't count as shutting someone out. And I wasn't being all that gloomy today, either."
"Yes you were," Lorelai pointed out. "You barely spoke to me this morning, and you made Kirk cry."
"But that cheered me up," Luke countered.
Lorelai shrugged. "Okay, I'll give you that. But you were still being gloomy."
"Okay," Luke sighed. "I woke up a little gloomy."
"You're married to Lorelai Gilmore now," Lorelai pouted. "Gloom should be a thing of the past."
"Well, it's comforting to know that it only took you a year and a half to become a nag," Luke snarked.
"Be thankful it didn't start on the honeymoon," Lorelai shot back.
"I'm doing a happy dance on the inside," Luke groaned, shifting to a more comfortable position.
"Never touch any buttons on your cell phone again without consulting the chart," she chided.
"I find it insulting that you actually felt the need to draw a cell phone chart for me," Luke whined.
"Hello," Lorelai sang accusingly. "I think your little faux pas today proves how badly the chart is needed. I think I actually need to update the chart with helpful little stick figures demonstrating the proper way to use speed dial, seeing as spelling it out it plain English didn't do the trick."
"Aw, jeez," Luke complained. "You're never going to let me live this down. What are you going to be like if I ever really do something wrong, like set the house on fire, or drive my truck into the lake?"
"Mock even more relentlessly," Lorelai promised. "With stick figure graphics."
"Thanks," Luke said dryly.
"You're most welcome, my dear," Lorelai giggled.
"I'm sorry," Luke said, looking at Lorelai with mournful eyes.
"It's okay, we worked it out in the end," she whispered.
"It just figures," Luke sighed. "My perpetual devotion to the inner angst-beast created yet another hassle in my life. I should be on Prozac, or Lithium, or get electro-shock therapy. My need to brood always gets in the way. Why do you put up with me?"
"Because," Lorelai smiled. "I love my little drama-queen. And as far as angsty Dark Days go, you were pretty mellow for the most part. Baby steps, right?"
"Besides making Kirk cry?" Luke muttered thoughtfully. "Yeah, aside from that, I was having a more mellow than usual Dark Day, wasn't I?"
"The winds of change, they are a-blowin'," Lorelai agreed.
"Yeah, they are," Luke said as he stood up and slowly paced around the room.
"You getting tired yet, Babe?" Lorelai asked.
"Nah," Luke said distractedly. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
Luke nodded. "Perfectly fine."
"Would you tell me if you weren't fine?" Lorelai prodded.
"Nope," Luke admitted as he walked back toward the bed. "Wouldn't say a word."
"Typical," Lorelai laughed. "So, technically this counts as shutting me out, too."
"How so?" Luke asked, eyeing Lorelai warily.
"You're not sharing," Lorelai explained.
"So?" Luke asked, walking a few steps away from the bed.
"It's not nice to not share," Lorelai said reproachfully.
"Don't want to share," Luke mumbled.
"Luuuke," Lorelai warned.
Luke shook his head. "Mine."
"Oh my god, are we really doing this?" Lorelai laughed.
Luke smiled and turned his back on Lorelai. "All mine," he whispered.
"Luke, damn it, gimme," Lorelai whined. "We are husband and wife. The State of Connecticut is on my side here. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours. So stop hogging."
"Not hogging," Luke grunted.
"You are too," Lorelai gasped. "I'll cry if you don't quit hogging. You wouldn't want me to cry again, now would you? Haven't you made me cry enough tonight?"
Luke stared at Lorelai wide-eyed. "I can't believe you'd stoop so low. I MADE you cry tonight? How was it my fault?"
Lorelai stuck out her bottom lip. "I've had a very rough day, and you're not scoring good husband points right now. You have no sympathy for my pain and anguish."
"Aw, jeez," Luke sighed. "Fine, I'll share, but not for too long."
Lorelai grinned. "That's my boy, now gimme."
Luke gingerly sat on the bed next to Lorelai. "Can't I have five more minutes?" he pleaded.
"Soon," Lorelai whispered as she reached to gently take the baby out of Luke's arms. "Mommy gets to have a turn for now."
"I'm sorry I made you cry," Luke murmured as he ran his index finger lightly over the sleeping newborn's closed fist.
"It's okay," Lorelai smiled. "I think the earth-shattering pain associated with giving birth was a little more to blame for the crying. I'm sorry I called you a dickhead."
"Not a problem," Luke grinned. "You get a reprieve. You gave birth to my little girl today, so you can shoot as many 'dickhead' comments at me as you want, at least until midnight."
Lorelai smiled as she looked down at the little girl. "Look, Daddy, her eyes are open," Lorelai whispered.
Luke leaned close. "Wow," he whispered. "Her eyes are so huge."
"Looks kind of like Rory's eyes when she was a baby," Lorelai smiled. "I'll bet her eyes stay blue."
Luke swallowed hard. "Reminds me of my mother's eyes," he said.
"We really gotta pick a name, Luke," Lorelai said. ""Can you even leave a hospital without picking out a name?"
"I don't know," Luke shrugged. "What name are you leaning toward?"
"I've got a few ideas, but I've got one name I've been batting around for a bit, and I think I like it."
"What's that?" Luke asked.
Lorelai looked at Luke uncertainly.
"What do you think about...Grace?"
Luke looked at Lorelai, stunned. "Really?" he whispered. "You'd really want to do that?"
Lorelai nodded, tears shining in her eyes. "I'd be honored to name my baby after the woman who gave me you, if you would be all right with it."
Luke nodded, trying to blink away the tears that were forming in his own eyes. "I'd like that," he choked out. "Our own little Gracie."
Lorelai kissed Luke on the cheek. "Then it's settled. Welcome to the family, Gracie."
Luke kissed Lorelai's temple and bent down to softly kiss Gracie's forehead. "Happy Birthday, Gracie."
Lorelai beamed at Luke. "So, as far as Dark Days go..." she began.
Luke grinned at Lorelai. "Best Dark Day ever."
FIN
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