- -
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 tears she saw glistening in Dean's eyes as Rory woke up next
to him the following morning. What a mess of a debate it had been in order to
have him stay here, at the crapshack. Lorelai had been so reluctant, but Dean's
own parents had kicked him out before even letting him move back in, and surely
he needed one parent to look after him now that he would have to learn to look
after a child.
"Why can't you give him the love you've given me?" Rory had asked quite
plainly. "He's all alone now. Please, just... let him stay."
"Fine, he can burn a hole in the couch. But you two behave yourselves. Be the
adults I'm treating you as." Lorelai nodded, liking her advice. "You'll grow up
fast now, the both of you. I guess it's good that you'll grow together."
Not wanting Dean to sleep on his own his first night in her house, Rory had
set up camp on the floor beside the couch, after moving some furniture to a
corner of the living room. There, Dean and she slept, side-by-side, on the
floor, cushioned by a thin blanket, and covered in a virgin white sheet.
Waking up this morning, seeing those tears, Rory asked Dean what was wrong.
"Nothing..." he said, "...Everything." He paused. "I have no idea."
"Welcome to my world," Rory said. Everything in her life had just been
spiraling down and down some more for what seemed like the longest time, but in
reality was little more than a week. "Are you working today?"
"No, I have the day off. I had to bribe Taylor, but I'm off."
"Bribe him with what?"
"I told him I'd reorganize the bread aisle. He says it's a mess, and that
I've been doing a bad job of stacking it all. I offered to do it over again."
"Wow. You really do get into your job."
"Hey, if the money's good..." Dean smiled.
"Is the money good?" Rory asked.
Dean shrugged. "I get by."
Rory paused. She looked down at her pink pajama pants and white top with
spaghetti straps. She thought about how if it weren't for Lorelai being just
upstairs, she would start to take them off. Instead, she reached out a hand to
cup Dean's cheek, and said, "I love you."
"Me too," said Dean. "More than you know."
--
That morning, Dean and Rory went for a walk through town. Rory tentatively
took Dean's hand, ready for him to pull back, away from her, for fear of
Lindsay, and what everyone would say. But he squeezed her hand and held it to
his tightly. He did love her. He did.
As they arrived at the center of town near the gazebo, they saw a crowd
gathered around Kirk who was shouting something. "Stars Hollow, 'Sizzlin' Stars
Hollow', get your copy, see the news. Make fun of other people. It's sizzlin'!"
Babette had a magazine in her hands that she was slowly skimming. She looked
up when she saw Rory and Dean approach the crowd. "So it is true..." she
breathed.
"What is true?" asked Rory, reaching for a magazine from Kirk's hands.
"First issue is free," said Kirk. "Especially for you," he said, looking
right at Rory. "Our leading lady."
The magazine was a poorly articulated sort of scrapbook in the form of a
tabloid. Very sloppily and unprofessionally done. 'Sizzlin' Stars Hollow', it
was called. Issue one. On the cover was a picture of Taylor's ice cream shop and
the question posed was, "Is the ice cream made from real dairy? Are there even
cows involved?"
Rory looked at Dean who shook his head. "This is ridiculous," he said. Rory
shared his opinion. And then she opened the magazine.
On page three, there was a familiar scene. Dean hugging Rory in Doose's
Market. The caption read: "Town angel with child? Soothed by the bad bagboy, the
father?" Below the caption was a short article articulating the conversation the
two had had earlier in the week. Someone had been spying. The article even
mentioned that Rory didn't like peas.
"What... what is this? Why... Kirk, who wrote this?" asked Rory, struggling
to come up with words.
"I am not at liberty to say."
"Who was spying on us?"
"I am not at liberty to say."
"Can I kick you?"
"I am not at liberty to... hey!"
"If she doesn't do it, I will," Dean said firmly, grinding his free hand into
a fist. "Tell us who wrote this piece of crap."
"My sources are silent. I am not at..."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Dean waved him off. Still holding onto Rory's hand, he
quickly led her away from the scene.
Babette came running after them. "But it's true, then? It's true? Oh, baby
doll..." She put a hand to Rory's shoulder to stop her from walking away, and
pulled her into an embrace. "Who else knows?"
"Well, the whole town now," Rory said dryly. In all likelihood that was true.
"How far along are you?"
"I don't..."
"She doesn't want to talk about it," Dean said, not unkindly, but in a way
that stated he didn't want to talk about it, either. "As you can understand,
we're both in a bit of shock here."
"God, if only I hadn't blurted it out in such a public place..." Rory
frowned, and hated herself. She wrapped her arms around her little body. The
summer air was warm on her face and her abdomen. She felt tears brimming in her
eyes. "Why, Dean? Why was I so stupid?"
"Oh, angel..." said Babette, pulling Rory into her arms again.
"Rory!" yelled Miss Patty, huffing and puffing to get to her. She threw her
arms around both Rory and Babette, and then yanked Dean into the hug by his
t-shirt. They shared a group embrace, and Rory's tears started to fall. When
they did, it was like a chain reaction. Before she knew it, Babette was
sniffling and Miss Patty was sobbing openly. "It's just like Lorelai," said Miss
Patty. "Who would've known?"
"She, um, she doesn't, um... She's not ready to talk about it," Dean said
weakly, currently being crushed into Miss Patty's chest. His voice almost
sounded muffled. "And neither am I."
"Stars Hollow! 'Sizzlin' Stars Hollow'!" Kirk continued to yell, like a
popcorn seller at a baseball game. "Read trash about people you used to admire.
Step right up!"
"Kirk, shut up!" said Rory, frustrated, and pulling out of everyone's
embrace. Some seconds she felt like being alone; others, she was afraid to.
"Come on, Dean." She took his hand again and they headed away from the gazebo
where more and more of the Stars Hollow crowd were gathering to gawk and stare
at her. She meant so much to them. She was the picture of innocence, the picture
of porcelain, the picture of perfection. The little girl who would one day go to
Harvard, that's what she had always been to them. Not the teenage girl who would
repeat her mother's mistakes. Especially because she was nothing like her mother
when it came to men. At least, not until now.
"When I come back, those papers had better all be in the trash!" Dean
threatened, turning his head as he walked forward with Rory. "Throw them away,
Kirk! Do the right thing."
"I am not at liberty to do so without consent. From the author. Of the
tabloid. I'm not allowed."
Dean shot him a menacing glare that made Kirk swallow deeply. Shaking his
head, Dean faced forward again, and tugged Rory toward Luke's diner. There, they
could examine the contents of the "magazine" more thoroughly and get a handle on
just what everyone now knew. As usual, the whole town was buzzing about
something that was absolutely none of their business. But there was no shutting
any of them up. The secret was out now. She was going to have a baby. No doubt
it would become the most beloved baby in the state. Not much news of any juicy
nature ever made its way into this town, so that when it did, its occupants
became a cluster of vultures, attacking and shredding flesh. It's true that
everyone cared, and only meant the best, but they didn't understand the pain of
their intrusion on someone's private life. Though Rory had come to learn that in
a town like this, nothing stays private for long. And now she had proof.
Walking into the diner, Dean led Rory to her favorite table, holding the seat
out for her. "Hmm, nice service," she said politely, sitting down. "Thank you,
sir."
"Certainly, Madame. Now... where's my tip?" Dean raised his eyebrow
playfully.
"Don't eat yellow snow."
Dean gave what could be described as a stifled giggle before settling in the
chair opposite Rory's. "See, I knew there was a smile left in there somewhere."
Rory looked down, her long lashes beautiful against her oh-so-white skin.
"Rory," said Dean, bending down so that he was at eye level, if only she
would raise her eyes. "It's going to be okay. Everyone would have found out
eventually. This isn't the disaster you're making it to be. And it wasn't your
fault. You were distressed, you couldn't help but to blurt it out."
"I can't believe you're not more worked up over this," she said with a
sniffle.
As Dean's clenched fists tightened beneath the table, he refused to admit
just how worked up he was being. "We've just... got to let it go, that's all."
Rory finally looked up. "If you tighten your jaw any more, it might break."
Dean smiled at her gratefully. "So you're okay? We can talk?"
"We can talk."
Dean cleared his throat. "Well, then, let's see who else got photographed in
such a flattering light." He opened up the tabloid and held it up in front of
him, like a newspaper. He was skimming the fifteen pages when Luke arrived at
their table to take their order. He looked at Dean so strangely. After a moment
of awkward silence, Dean realized he was being stared at and lowered the
magazine so his eyes could meet the other man's gaze.
"So, how's the wife?" Luke asked.
Dean glanced at Rory. "I don't know." He looked back at Luke. "Do you know
something?"
"Should I know something?"
"Do you think you should?"
"Do you think I should think I should?"
Rory rolled her eyes. "I'll have two eggs, scrambled, with crumbled cheese on
top; two strips of sausage, two strips of bacon, and a liter of coffee, please.
Black."
Dean looked so nervous under Luke's stare. It was an innocent one, though, a
sort of "I hate you, but I don't have a specific reason why" thing. Rory didn't
think he knew about the... circumstances. She wanted to tell Dean to hide the
tabloid magazine, but she couldn't speak right now. She was paralyzed by the
fear of what Luke was going to do to Dean when he found out just what was going
on.
"Got it, Rory," Luke said politely, scribbling something on his order pad.
"And what about for the hoodlum here?"
"Hey, back off," Dean barked.
Luke rolled his eyes. "What's your order?"
"Orange juice."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Anything else, I might not be able to taste the poison you'd drop
in."
"You're getting smarter. Definitely at a slower pace than the snails outside
the door, but you're getting there," Luke acknowledged, his voice strange. It
was as if, looking at Rory now with Dean sitting in front of her, he had to give
the kid credit for being a decently honorable human being for, after all, if
Rory approved of him, then so should the world. Nobody had better taste than
Rory. Luke's eyes were calculating. They seemed to be trying to measure both
Dean and Rory up, see what they were hiding. Rory figured he must not know about
Dean moving in, or about the pregnancy. She didn't want to be the one to tell
him. As nonchalantly as possible, she leaned over the table and turned the page
in the magazine, so it was no longer showing the cover story. And there she
stopped, in a dead freeze.
Oh, God, why did the world hate her? There was another confusion to confront.
As Luke walked away, Rory swallowed her gasp, and then grabbed the magazine from
Dean to stare, really stare at the picture in front of her eyes. Lorelai kissing
Luke inside this very diner. The caption indicated that they were spotted here
after hours last week when the picture was taken, and apparently they must have
thought the darkness outside would keep them hidden, but the bright lighting in
the restaurant begged to differ.
What was her mother doing kissing Luke? Which one of them should she ask
about this first? She dropped the magazine, shaken. She wanted to tell Luke to
hurry it up with the coffee, but all of a sudden she couldn't talk to him. She
didn't know what to say.
Dean, trying to lighten the mood, started nudging her feet with one of his
under the table. He smiled in a charming way as Rory met his eyes. "What you
reading?" he asked playfully.
Any other time, she would've enjoyed a little game of footsie, but as it was,
Rory turned the magazine around and gave it back to Dean, open to the page she
had been eyeing. He sucked in his breath and shook his head. "Wow, bad day to be
a Gilmore girl."
Rory nodded. "Or her boyfriend."
"Yeah..."
"Are you my boyfriend?"
"Of course. I'll be your anything."
Rory smiled. It was small, it didn't light up her eyes, but it helped.
"You know, Rory, the only way we can beat these people is to act like their
gossip means nothing to us. To act like we have nothing to hide. Lindsay already
knows, and now the town is aware of what they think is happening. We might as
well shout it out to the world."
Rory exhaled, long and hard. Dean was right. What use was there in hiding
this anymore?
"Hey, uh, waiter!" Dean called, waving a hand and smiling. "We've got a
hungry pregnant lady here, awaiting her eggs."
The impact of that sentence sent Luke and the dishes in his hand crashing to
the floor.
--
Rory didn't know what she was doing here. After breakfast, she and Dean
parted because she needed some "alone time". And as she took her strides away
from him, she just keep going, kept walking, until she reached Lindsay's house,
the house where up until a couple of days ago, Dean had lived under the guise of
happiness. A "happiness" that she had splintered in two. And the second half of
that splinter stood somewhere beyond the front door. She knocked.
Rory could hear someone moving around inside the house. She could hear
footsteps on the floor. She resisted looking in any of the windows, not wanting
to be rude just because she was impatient.
Perhaps, she thought, she was here to tie up this loose end. After all, if
the whole town now knew what was going on, she and Dean were going to be able to
show themselves together in public. But she wanted Lindsay to know straight away
that she was flaunting nothing, and that she was sorry, so terribly sorry.
Lindsay opened the door with a yawn. When she saw Rory, she jumped, looking
startled, and placed a hand on her chest. Her face was ready to take on any
emotion, and it seemed to be colliding with more than one. At first it looked
like she was going to murder Rory, then it looked like she was going to cry,
then it looked like she was confused, utterly, utterly lost.
Rory stepped forward and gave her a short hug. Confused, Lindsay did not
reciprocate.
An awkward silence ensued.
Lindsay cleared her throat and chose a bitchy face to morph into. "You have
something to say to me?"
"Right. Yeah." Pause. "I'm just not sure how."
Lindsay looked down, ready to state the obvious: "It has to do with Dean,
doesn't it?"
"Well -- "
"I mean, he's the only thing we have in common, right?"
Rory nodded regretfully. "Right."
Lindsay's voice cooled down some. "Remember that time at the beginning of
tenth grade, before you left, when you asked to borrow my favorite eraser?"
"Vaguely..." admitted Rory, frowning in confusion.
"It was my favorite, see. It was purple and neon green striped. It was brand
new. You took it, and you never gave it back."
"I'm sorry."
"I just wanted to put a memory in your head to show that I don't flip out
because of small things like that."
Rory nodded, but this was no small matter. "I wish all this had to do with
was an eraser."
"So it's bigger than that."
"Yes," Rory said softly.
"I didn't hear you."
Rory cleared her throat, and spoke a bit louder: "Yes. Of course."
Lindsay stood at the entrance to her house, with a baggy t-shirt and jeans
that made her legs look particularly slim. A gift from Dean. Back when he was
hers. Which is the way it was always supposed to be. She seemed to be having
difficulties staying calm. Finally, when Rory wouldn't speak further, Lindsay
did. "How could you? How could you do this to me? I mean he's my husband, he was
mine. And you've taken him from me. Sure, we had our problems, but now..." She
broke down and began to cry. "You ruined everything."
Lindsay's sobs penetrated Rory's heart, and made her ache for what she had
done, what she was still doing. What she would continue to do. Dean was hers
now, no matter how she had gotten him. They fit together like final puzzle
pieces. Dean was always meant to be with Rory. He wasn't ready to marry. But
none of this mattered to the blonde girl in front of her whose throat was
becoming raw from all the sobbing and the tears.
At last, Lindsay tried to compose herself. "If you had the chance to go back,
would you do it again?"
"I wish I knew," Rory lied. She hated lying.
Appearing weak all of a sudden, Lindsay turned and walked inside the house,
leaving the door open as if inviting Rory to come in and commiserate with her.
Her enemy, being allowed onto Lindsay's turf. Lindsay sat down at the dining
room table, cupping her face in her hands to muffle the sounds escaping her
throat and capture her tears.
Having come in behind her, Rory sniffed the air. She could smell something
burning in the kitchen. Feeling like she had to do something, she went and
turned the oven off.
She returned to the dining room, on the verge of tears herself. "I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry... I'm sure Dean is, too."
Lindsay's head snapped up, and she hastily wiped away the tears on her face.
"You know nothing about Dean."
"Well, then at least I'm sorry." Rory added her sobs to Lindsay's. "I mean, I
never meant to do this to you!"
"Then, God, why didn't you stop?"
"Because I love him..." Rory's voice became very small. "I think I have
always loved him."
"I hate you," Lindsay whispered, a tear sliding down her face.
Rory nodded. "I hate me, too."
Lindsay groaned. "Just go away. I can't be near you right now."
Indecision made Rory pause, but then her soft footsteps led her out of the
dining room, away from the crying girl, a visual image of the marriage she had
destroyed. She made her way out the front door and closed it behind her. Alone
on Dean's old porch, she wiped away her tears. She was not the one who deserved
to cry.
Rory then left the house and the broken girl inside who may never be whole
again.
--
Dinner time came and went. Lindsay heard a tentative knock on her front door.
When she opened it, there was no one there to stand under the porch light. She
looked down, and there she saw a new purple and neon green eraser.
Picking it up, she turned around, gift in her hand, and closed the door
behind her, leaving an empty porch for an empty girl.
- -
to be continued...
