- -
She thought of how he would react when she brought his world crashing down on
him, as hers had done on herself. All because the stick turned blue.
Blue, like the lining of the plates that stretched on into gold edging.
"It's Friday," announced Emily, picking at her meat with a fork.
"Hence why we're here," Lorelai pointed out.
"Why does it feel like it was just Thursday?"
"Well, Mom, it was just Thursday. Yesterday."
"Yes, but it feels like a Thursday today."
"We could call it Thursday," suggested Rory, trying to politely enjoy the
meat that her grandmother seemed to be wary of. ...What ever kind of meat it
was.
"Well if we called it Thursday then technically you girls wouldn't be here."
Emily's reasoning lately didn't tend to run that close to actual reason. "You
would be here uninvited."
"I love to be uninvited," said Lorelai. "I plan on refusing to invite myself
to my own wedding."
"What wedding?" Emily was tired.
"The one you are not invited to, either."
"Well I'll mourn the loss."
"Good one, Mom."
Emily gave up on the mystery meat and pushed her plate away. "This dinner is
vile. I refuse to eat another bite of it."
"I'll eat it," Lorelai offered.
"Nonsense, you aren't even finished with yours."
Lorelai's fork snagged up the remaining three pieces of food on her plate and
quickly she shoved them into her mouth. She made a thing out of swallowing it
all quick as she could as her mother and daughter looked on.
Rory's face was disgusted. "How can you eat that, Mom? No offense, Grandma."
"None taken," said Emily easily. "Erica is officially fired."
Lorelai swallowed the food in her mouth. "Hey, Mom, do you think it's
possible that you've fired the same maid more than once? By now you must have
had to rehire ones you had already disposed of, considering you've swept through
the entire working force of Hartford."
"I have fired more than one woman with the same name, that's for sure," Emily
admitted thoughtfully. "All of their names seem to run together. Alison...
Abby... Samantha..."
Lorelai began to reach for her mother's plate. "Mom, those names are all
radically different."
"They all have that 'aah' sound," Rory pointed out. "In Grandma's defense."
"Why are you defending her?" Lorelai wanted to know. "You should always know
to be on my side."
"Point well taken."
"Why are you just talking to each other as if I'm not here?" Emily cut in.
"Where is Erica? Erica, bring in the dessert!" she yelled. She turned back to
her guests. "You just don't know the dilemma I had this week of choosing
tonight's dessert. I wanted banana splits, just for something fun and different,
but then I remembered that Lorelai didn't like bananas..."
"I like bananas," said Lorelai firmly.
"Oh. Well then who doesn't like bananas? Rory, do you like bananas?"
"That I do."
"Who doesn't like bananas?" Now Emily was not only confused but determined to
find out the answer.
"Dad..." Lorelai cleared her throat. "Dad doesn't like bananas, Mom."
Emily sat back, resigned. "Oh."
All three turned to stare at the empty seat down the table. Perfectly
upholstered chair set three inches from the edge of the table, majestic and
lacking a body to support. Those present at the table became sad for the gap in
their group. Emily became most sad of all.
"Yes. Well," Emily said, needing to begin a conversation again. "Looks like
we'll have banana splits next week then, if all accounted for seem to enjoy
bananas."
"And sprinkles," Lorelai put in. Her face became stone-serious, "Rainbow, not
chocolate."
"Good quote, bad movie," said Rory.
"What movie would that be?" Emily asked.
"The one where Winona Ryder goes crazy," said Lorelai.
Emily shifted in her seat. "Well she didn't need a movie to get that across."
Forks made small "tinkling" sounds against plates for a few minutes
following. Lorelai kept motioning to Rory, and pointing to her mother, who sat
looking so down and disappointed. It was like how a stoner would look at an
expensive bong that she couldn't have, thought Lorelai. Rory kept shrugging or
looking away, pretending not to notice her mother's insistent nudges.
"Mom," Lorelai said, clearing her throat, "now that we've reminded you of
Dad, uh... Rory has some other great news."
"More great news? I don't think I could stand it." Emily's attempt at sarcasm
was duly noted.
Silence just kept on coming, and it was driving Lorelai crazy. She and Rory
had discussed it, they had to tell Emily tonight. It was only the right thing to
do, to tell her what was happening the first Friday after it... began happening.
But Rory wasn't so excited about their bargain. Lorelai had bribed her by
offering to file all of Rory's summer reading books in a new and comprehensive
way if she would just tell her grandmother her wonderful news. And Rory had
grudgingly agreed at the time, but now...
"It's something great," said Lorelai finally. "Something good. You're
going to be so shocked, I think the taste of this 'meat' will be wiped from your
taste buds."
"Really? Well, if it's that great then out with it," said Emily, folding her
hands together beneath her chin, propping her head up just so. It was impolite
to place her elbows on the table, but she did so anyway. What did she care at
this moment? Her husband was gone, her daughter was acting like herself, and now
there was some sort of bomb threat news about to hit her. "This is about Rory.
How bad could it be." She turned to Lorelai. "Is it something that even you
disapprove of, Lorelai?"
"Yes, I've disowned her," said Lorelai. She turned to Rory. "Rory, I no
longer own you."
"Good to know," said her daughter.
Lorelai paused. "So, do I get a refund?"
"There are no pockets in this dress," Rory reasoned. "I have no money on me."
"I plan to hold it over your head, then, until I get my due."
"You're such a loan shark."
"I can sure bite like one."
Emily was watching all of this with little interest and much eye rolling.
"You should see a psychiatrist, Lorelai."
Lorelai had grabbed her mother's plate and didn't stop eating or looking at
her food. In a distracted voice, she asked, "Why?"
"Well if you knew, that would make it so much easier, wouldn't it?"
Lorelai kept picking at her food. "What?"
Emily turned to the girl she would prefer to be talking to. "Rory, what is
it? What is this big secret you're afraid or ashamed to tell me?"
"On second thought - - " Lorelai stuck in, suddenly paying attention " - -
maybe you shouldn't tell her just yet, Rory. Maybe we should just keep holding
it over her head for the sake of her own sanity. I think we need to warm up our
voices a bit more before spilling the beans."
Emily was growing increasingly impatient. She wanted to know. "I think I can
handle it."
Lorelai put down her fork and finished chewing her food, wincing because it
was now almost cold. "It could be something so catastrophic it would leave you
scarred for life. So bad that you'd resemble Zazu."
"Who is Zazu?" Emily asked, realizing as always that it might be better if
she didn't know, but the words had already come out and there was no stopping
their answer.
"Bird. Depressed. 'The Lion King'," Lorelai explained while Rory looked on
with her mouth slightly agape, working at summoning her courage and trying to
will her mother not to make things worse before they got started.
Emily stared at Lorelai. No recognition. Nothing.
Lorelai continued: "He even has a song."
"Oh dear God, please don't tell me you're going to sing it," said Emily.
Rory bit her lip. Jump in any time, was the message she was receiving.
Sing it Lorelai did, exaggerating her words for dramatic effect. "Nnnnoooobody
knows the trouble I've seen..." She glanced at Rory and continued. "Nnnoooobody
knows my sorrow..."
Emily cut her off. "You really do need to see some kind of health
professional."
"'Health professional'?" Lorelai asked, ceasing her singing. "What are you, a
psychologist?"
"Must you taunt me? I was only giving you friendly advice. You have issues."
"Sorry, Dr. Gilmore."
"Rory, reason with your mother - - "
"I'm pregnant." This is the way it always seemed to come out, rushed and
un-timely and in a voice that betrayed it didn't know what it was saying. She
got two stares turned her way for her mature outburst. "Grandma... I am."
There was so much silence.
Lorelai was about to claim she saw a tumbleweed enter the dining room when
Emily burst out, "How could you let this happen, Lorelai?"
"Always my fault," Lorelai mumbled. "Quick, let's distract her, child! Rory,
sing the Zazu song with me!"
Emily was fuming in silence.
Rory sat up straighter in her chair, all dignified. "I will not."
"Ditcher," Lorelai accused.
"What?"
"A ditcher. You ditched me. You left me dying, gasping for air between two
slabs of cement."
"You look fine to me." Rory crossed her arms over her chest.
"Ditch-er. Look it up. Wow, I just sounded like Luke, didn't I?"
"I don't think that's a word," Rory put in.
"It is now."
"I see that."
"Look at me, all making up words." Lorelai, for one, was proud. But her pride
had a small population that night.
"Lorelai, stop. I've had enough," said Emily firmly.
"I am adding words to the English language," explained Lorelai innocently.
"How wonderful," said Emily.
"Yes, it is. It really is."
Emily brought a hand to her forehead. "I think I'm getting a headache."
"Way to go, Mom," said Rory. "Should I applaud now or save that till later?"
"Just call me Somebody Webster."
"Obviously you have issues with silence," Emily cut in, irritated. "You
barely acknowledge it exists."
"Excuse me, acknowledge what?"
"Rory..." Emily trailed off, and sighed, shaking her head. "While your mother
is making up words, they are fading from my head. She must be grasping them from
me, as if I were a bowl of dip."
"But there are no chips," Lorelai pointed out.
"Really, since when has that been a factor?" Emily asked, her voice dull and
dreary.
"That's a good point, she eats the onion dip just off her fingers sometimes,"
said Rory.
"Tastes better that way," insisted Lorelai.
"You two can take nothing seriously. It's like 'Everybody Loves Raymond' in
here." Emily was fed up, and deeply shocked, but the shock seemed to have buried
itself deeply within her psyche because she couldn't seem to get to it just now.
Her mind realized that she couldn't deal with it, and thus made it fade into the
background, the delicate dining room décor. Oh well. At least it was a good
color.
"I don't love Raymond," Rory said. "I felt like I should offer that to the
conversation."
"Yeah, I don't love Raymond, either," Lorelai agreed. "Something about the
nose."
"The nose is fine," Rory argued. "I think it's the voice."
"The voice is warped due to the nasal passages," reasoned Lorelai. "It all
comes down to the nose."
Rory considered this. "All right, you win."
"I do." Lorelai smiled, pleased with herself. She looked at her mother, who
sat stone-faced, her back rigid, her eyes focusing on something that wasn't
there. Was she seeing the future baby falling off a diving board? "Mom, since
when do you watch TV that other people know of, anyway? How are the 'Bet you'll
get bored first' documentaries these days?"
"Who is the young man?" Emily asked quietly of Rory, without attempting to
meet her eyes. "Is it a young man that's responsible? Is it a middle-aged man?
Is it someone running from the law?"
"It's..." Rory paused and looked to Lorelai for help.
"Don't look at me, I've already done this," Lorelai said. "I had to go
through it on my own and look, I'm still alive."
"Do you remember Dean?" Rory's voice was now becoming as quiet as Emily's.
"It's... well, it's Dean's."
"The boy from your town. I didn't know you were with him."
"I wasn't, I - - "
"I think you've said enough," said Lorelai with false cheer. "Bring on the
bananas!"
"Is this why you chose not to go to Europe with me this summer, Rory? Is it
because of this boy?"
"Kind of... Yeah. I'm sorry, Grandma, but we've started something
together..."
"Obviously." Emily was displeased, but wasn't sure how to show it or even if
she should. This wasn't Lorelai, after all, this was Rory. A much more delicate
flower. She couldn't take the same kinds of harsh judgments and still walk away
with her head high. She needed understanding... and if only Emily could grasp
some understanding, she would give it to her. But... "Lorelai, where were you
when these two were making this child? They're still children themselves, for
God's sake!"
"I was making the popcorn. They started the show early."
"Oh dear God, now I really do have a headache."
Erica, the maid, brought in their plates of dessert. Rory felt just sick.
Lorelai seemed to be the only one interested in the food, and chose to dig right
in to her slice of angel food cake while her mother and daughter had joint heart
attacks.
"Leave." It came and went in such a heartbeat, the ache of it dulling out the
drums in Rory's veins. She looked questioningly at her grandmother, as did
Lorelai, who put down her fork and doubled the stare. "Please," continued Emily,
"just leave."
--
Rory closed the front door behind she and Lorelai. Neither of them knew if
the invitation for next Friday night dinner was still open or not. But it hadn't
been the time to ask. Quietly, they had gotten up from the table, pushed their
chairs in, and gone out the front door, leaving Emily to sit in her silence and
contemplate with the lace-white cake her companion.
As they got into the car they had come in together, Lorelai sighed. "Could
anything else go wrong? Could we have anything more colossal drop on our heads?"
Rory sat in silent contemplation. Lorelai started the car, and revved the
engine. Oh, right, Rory knew the answer now to the question. "I invited Dean to
move in."
- -
to be continued...
