- -
Spring, 2004
"I'm bored," said Lorelai. "Let's play the question game! I am the best
at the question game."
"I'd beg to differ, but I don't know what you're referring to," Rory replied,
taking a sip of her coffee. The two sat at a table at Luke's on a lazy Saturday
morning. Lorelai was off from work, Rory was home from school.
"You know! The game where I ask a question, and we both have to answer it,
and then you ask a question, and - - "
"Let me guess: we both have to answer it?"
"You catch on quick there, partner." Lorelai held up her empty mug in the
air. "Luke!" she exclaimed in the midst of the diner, stopping there as if that
explained everything.
"No. No more coffee," said Luke, coming out from behind the counter to the
Gilmore table. They were at their favorite table, the one next to the window.
Kirk had been sitting there when they had first walked in, claiming that it was
now his favorite table. He and Lorelai had gotten into quite the tongue
battle over who loved the table more. In the end, Lorelai won because, well,
she's Lorelai, and because she also had Rory at her side to back her up.
Kirk had long since left the diner in a slump after finishing one of his
inane breakfasts: "Eggs over-easy, but don't flip them; hashbrowns, crispy, but
not browned; toast, dry, and I do mean dry - - the toast wasn't dry enough last
time. I sensed some margarine. Don't try to sneak it in on me." The Gilmores,
though they had both finished their pancakes and a shared plate of eggs an hour
ago, still remained at that one special table, sipping the hot liquid that ran
through their veins.
"I don't want to play the question game," Rory finally responded.
Lorelai looked shocked. "Why on earth would my child not want to play a game
with me? You used to play hide-and-seek with me all the time!"
"Yes, but you would forget to find me!"
"I would not forget. I would just get distracted. TV? Pretty."
"Still," Rory said. "That's no excuse. Don't ever teach anyone that game."
"Teach? There's nothing to teach; the name is self-explanatory. You hide,
then you are seeked."
"Sought out."
"Seeked."
Rory shrugged. "You win. Be grammatically incorrect all you want."
"Thanks so much for the permission," Lorelai said with a hint of sarcasm. She
hoisted the mug she had lowered back into the air, and cried again, "Luke!" She
then realized that he was still standing next to their table, giving the both of
them an odd look.
"No more coffee!" came the gruff reply. "You've had five cups. I'm cutting
you off."
"I've only had four," Rory bragged, finishing off the last of her latest cup.
As her mother had done, she hoisted the empty mug into the air. Luke silently
filled her cup, ignoring Lorelai's death glare. Rory giggled. "I win."
"Win? There's nothing to win. Just like in hide-and-seek, there is no winning
to be had," said Lorelai, the sore loser. "Lu-u-uuuke. Please? You gave my child
some more. You're feeding her addiction, and yet cutting me off?"
"She had had one cup less than you. So I evened it out. Now I'm cutting her
off, too."
"Hey!" Rory protested. "I don't feel so much like a winner anymore."
"Good, you big loser," Lorelai taunted, obviously upset. "What a couple of
losers we'll both be all day if our addiction isn't fed. You do know, Luke, that
this banter only comes because I'm wired up to here, or..." She stopped,
realizing she didn't have an example to showcase. She raised her cup into the
air once again. "Up to here!"
"Oh, how I would miss it." With that, Luke, and the coffee pot, walked away.
"Thanks a lot, Sarcasmo," Lorelai huffed. She turned to Rory and frowned.
"How is it that you've had one less cup than me?"
"I drink slower."
"Since when?"
"Since I burned my tongue because I was too eager to start the first cup."
"Ah." Lorelai reached over the table to place her hand on her daughter's mug.
"Well, we wouldn't want that to happen again, would we?" Just as she tried to
sneak the handle into her hand, Rory snatched the mug away.
"Hey! My cup! Mine!"
Lorelai sighed. "Fine. Just leave me here to suffer, to starve, to dry up
into... something dry."
"Nice," Rory mocked.
"Well how am I supposed to be clever without another cup of coffee?
Especially this early in the day."
Rory looked at her watch, a big, clunky, manly, utilitarian design. That was
something to be said about Rory: her fashion tastes varied from one end of the
spectrum to the other. "It's almost noon."
"I maintain with my position."
"I guess you're right," Rory confessed. "We're not usually out and about this
early on a Saturday."
"Because we know the secret: Saturdays were invented for sleeping in."
"So why didn't we sleep in today?"
"That's a question for the word game."
"Oh, Mom." Rory rolled her eyes.
"Now let's play the word game," Lorelai said finally. "We should, we really
should, because I always win."
"You do not always win, we've never played!"
"Sure we have, you just didn't know."
"Okay, so you can't win, that means you forfeit," explained Rory in an
attempt to win something out of this conversation.
"Why?"
"For breaking the rules."
"The rules being?"
"That you have to actually tell your opponent that a game is in play..." Rory
smirked. "Or seek them out."
"Honey, you always hid in the same place, anyway."
"Well, I thought the same place always worked, seeing as how you never found
me."
"Ah, but I knew you were there."
"Really?" Rory was interested now. "Then just where was I?"
"Under my bed. I know because I peeked when I was counting as you headed up
the stairs and I could hear your footsteps on the floor above me. The rest is
just a wild guess."
"Cheater!" Rory accused.
"It was a stupid game, anyway! You have to agree with me on that."
Rory solemnly crossed her arms in front of her chest and muttered, "You win."
"Yes, I do. I win everything."
Rory sighed. "So if this is a game, how do you win it?"
"By giving the best answer."
"What if you don't have an answer?"
"Then you lose."
"That's a little harsh," Rory cut in. "After all, you've had all this time to
prepare for such a game, and I haven't had any. Just these last few minutes to
get used to the idea."
"Does it look like I care?" Lorelai asked, not needing an answer. "Now, I
start."
"Why - - "
"Because it's my game, kid. I made it up."
"You lie."
"Yeah, but you can pretend to believe me. Now, let me think, let me think...
I know I've got a question in this head somewhere..." Lorelai mouthed the words
"coffee, coffee, coffee" to herself as she sifted through all the things she's
ever wanted to ask, but didn't have the chance to. She couldn't seem to find any
words other than that certain liquid that her body craved.
"Here," Rory said, shoving her mug in front of Lorelai's hands that were
finger drumming on the table. It was still half full.
Lorelai grinned. "You are so my favorite daughter."
"Drink up already. It's question time." Rory looked at her watch again. "I'm
going to start timing how long it takes you to ask this question."
"Why?"
"Because we can add that to the rules of the question game. You have to ask
or answer the question the fastest."
"Why are you adding on rules to my game?"
Rory shrugged. "You've already wasted thirty seconds of your time, and the
clock's just ticking away."
Lorelai downed the rest of Rory's mug of coffee in a few large gulps, and
then placed the mug feather-light back down onto the table, closing her eyes and
inhaling, then exhaling slowly. "Okay. Question, question, come out, come out,
wherever you are..."
"Oh God," said Rory. "You lose."
"No, wait! I know. I've got one."
"Then let's hear it," Rory urged, expecting an all-important life defining
question like "What's your favorite color?" or "How many times have you wanted
to kick Kirk in the groin?" What she got instead is a question that haunts her
to this day.
"What was the biggest mistake of your life?" asked Lorelai flippantly.
Rory paused, her whole body tensing into one single pose, and freezing there.
What was the biggest mistake of your life?...
She didn't know then, but she's pretty sure she knows now.
- -
to be continued...
