Chapter Text
This won’t be easy, and that’s okay. Since Lorelai succeeded in being born feet first despite numerous shovings from the doctor to get her head facing the correct way, she has never been afraid of a challenge. Still, there’s a challenge and then there’s prising coffee out of Grouchy McDinerman. With a deep breath, she pulls on her most winning smile and approaches the counter. “Please, Luke. Please, please, please.”
“How many cups have you had this morning?” Luke places a bet with himself it’s five or more.
“None.”
“Plus…?’
Urgh, fine. “Five, but yours is better.”
More to get her away from his counter than because of her pouty smile, which she only ever uses when she wants something, Luke fetches the pot. “You have a problem.”
“Yes, I do.” But it’s about to be solved because he’s filling up a mug.
“Junkie,” Luke accuses as he hands over the drink.
“Angel,” Lorelai gushes. “You've got wings, baby.” They both know she’s talking to the coffee.
As Luke stomps away to answer the phone, Lorelai returns to the table. Turns out her most winning smile affected someone.
“You make that look really good.”
Lorelai looks up. A stranger at the counter is staring at her, a stranger who will remain a stranger because who uses ‘you make that look really good’ as a serious pick-up line? “Oh, it is really good. It's the best coffee in town.” A career spent in the hospitality business means Lorelai’s fake politeness is well-trained.
“Oh yeah?” The stranger says, leaning closer. “I'll have to get a cup.”
“Good plan.” Especially if it’s to go.
“Yeah, I've never been here before. Just passing through on my way to Hartford.”
Oh goody, Random Guy is not a hint-taker. “You're a regular Jack Kerouac.”
“Yeah. Hey, you mind if I sit down?”
Random Guy also doesn’t understand sarcasm. What a catch.
“Oh, you know what? Actually, I'm meeting someone so I…” Lorelai trails off as Random Guy doesn’t wait for an answer and takes the unoccupied seat.
“I'm Joey.”
“Okay.”
“What, you don't have a name?”
What’s a nice way to say ‘yes, but you don’t need to know it because this is the only conversation we’ll ever have’? Not that Lorelai ever feels the need to be nice to idiot non-sarcasm understanding hint-ignorers, but Luke will start bleating about ‘scaring away customers’ if she gets in another verbal altercation. “No, I do have a name. It’s just I really am meeting someone, so…” A toddler could understand this pregnant pause.
“So I guess I should get going?”
“So soon?”
Joey frowns. “What?”
“I'm just screwing with your mind, Joey. It's nice to meet you. Enjoy Hartford.”
“Enjoy your coffee, mystery woman,” Joey says as he returns to the counter.
“Hmm,” Lorelai says into her mug. “Mystery woman, I like that.”
The bell above the door jangles as two girls enter.
“You said we wouldn’t need an umbrella,” Rory grumbles.
“And we didn’t.” Hayden rarely bothers disagreeing with her twin, but in this case, she has evidence on her side.
“It’s raining.”
“That’s not rain,” Hayden pffts.
“Is water falling from the sky?”
“Yes.”
“That is the literal definition of rain.”
Hayden sighs. This is why she rarely bothers disagreeing with Rory. “Fine. Technically, it’s raining-”
“Thank you.” Rory’s smug at getting her sister to admit she was right
“-but not hard enough that we needed an umbrella.”
“Umbrellas don’t have a minimum water threshold, Hay.”
“No sport in the world would get called off for this much rain. Well, maybe tennis.”
Lorelai, overhearing the conversation, grins as her twins sit down. “My own personal weather girls.” She opens her mouth to perform a rendition of the famous song she loves both ironically and truly, though she will never admit the latter.
“It is not raining men,” Rory and Hayden say together. This is something the twins can definitely agree on.
“You never let me sing,” Lorelai grumps.
“That’s not true,” Rory counters.
“You have your designated area,” Hayden adds.
“Yes, but I only ever have time for five-minute showers. Five minutes is not long enough to put on a concert.”
“For which we are daily grateful,” Rory says.
“See, now I'm not going to let you borrow my lip gloss,” Lorelai huffs.
“How did you know I wanted to borrow your lip gloss?” Rory frowns.
“I have special mom powers.” Triumphant at its magnificent size, Lorelai pulls a makeup bag out of her purse. It would probably make more sense to keep the purse inside the makeup bag. “So, what do you need? I have vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and toasted marshmallow.”
“Anything in there not resembling a breakfast cereal?”
“Yes.” Lorelai pulls out another bag along with a smug grin.
Hayden takes a Sports Illustrated out of her backpack and begins to read. Best not to get in the way when the Lorelais Gilmore get into their conversational flow.
Lorelai brandishes a lurid lip gloss. “It has no smell, but it changes colours with your mood.”
“God, RuPaul doesn't need this much makeup.”
“Wow, you're crabby.”
“I'm sorry. I lost my Macy Gray CD, and I need caffeine.”
“Ooh, I have your CD.” Lorelai pulls the case out of her purse.
Rory snatches it. “Thief.”
“Sorry. Can I pay my debt to society through coffee?”
“You can.”
Lorelai goes back to the counter, swiping the cup Luke has just put down and holding it out ‘Please, sir, I want some more’ style. Luke was made to sit through that god-awful movie as a child and takes no pity on the caffeine-desperate Oliver.
“What? It's not for me, it's for Rory, I swear. Oh, and one for Hayden, too.” Lorelai steals another cup and shoves it at Luke.
“Hayden doesn’t drink coffee.”
“Why must you always highlight my greatest parental failing?!”
Behind Lorelai, Joey approaches Rory and Hayden’s table. Luke keeps one eye on the stranger talking to the twins while offering their mom a compromise. “I can give you one hot tea and one decaf coffee.”
Lorelai shifts into drama-queen hyperbole mode, her go-to mode for counteracting anything she disagrees with. “My daughters are sitting over there, soaked to the skin, this close to developing pneumonia-”
“They’re bone dry.”
“It’s raining.”
Luke peers out the window. “That ain’t rain.”
“Is water falling from the sky?”
“That’s mist at best.”
“Rory, come tell Luke that-” Lorelai turns around and spies the man who tried to pick her up using the same lines on her kids. The drama queen disappears; the mama bear emerges. “Ah. He's got quite a pair, this guy.”
“Has anyone ever told you two you look a lot alike?” Joey smarms to Rory and Hayden.
“The nurses in the delivery room may have mentioned it," Lorelai says as she arrives back at the table with the cups.
“Oh, hi.”
“Oh, hi. You really like my table, don't you?”
“I was just, uh...”
“Getting to know my daughters?”
The blood drains from Joey’s face. “Your daughters?”
The twins put on their best expression of wide-eyed innocence. Lorelai taught them this at age three in order to jump to the head of the line at any bus queue.
“Are you our new daddy?” Rory asks.
“Papa?” Hayden coos.
“Wow.” Joey is confused on every level. “You do not look old enough to have daughters. No, I mean it. And you two do not look like daughters.”
“That's possibly very sweet of you,” Lorelai says. “Thanks.”
Joey takes a final shot. “So…daughters. You know, I am travelling with a couple of friends.”
“They’re fifteen.”
“Bye.”
“Drive safe!” Lorelai calls as Joey nopes the hell out of there.
___________________
As Lorelai sweeps through the lobby to the front desk, she finds Michel talking into the phone with his usual enthusiasm.
“No, I'm sorry, we're completely booked . . . We have a wedding party here . . . No, there is really nothing I can do . . . Yes, I'm sure . . . Positive . . . No, I don't have to look, ma'am, I- . . . Yes, of course, I'll look.” Michel very much does not look at the reservation book. “No, I'm sorry, we're completely booked . . . Madame, you have no idea how desperately I'd like to help, but see, I'd have to build a room for you myself, and I am not a man who works with his hands, so the best I can do is suggest that you please, please try for another weekend. Any weekend . . . Ah, good, fine, the twenty-first. Hold on, I'll look.” This time, Michel does consult the reservation book. “No, I'm sorry, we're completely booked.” Thankfully, the woman hangs up.
“Has the plumber attended to room four yet?” Lorelai asks.
“He was here, he did nothing, it's a hundred dollars.”
Rather than try and wrangle more information out of her misanthropic concierge, Lorelai picks up the phone and dials a familiar number. “Hi Marco? Lorelai. Talk to me about room four. What was wrong with it?”
The twins enter the lobby. Rory comes behind the desk and Lorelai kisses her hello, while Hayden blows a kiss but stays by the front door, tossing a baseball between her hand and glove.
“Uh-huh. I thought you replaced that already . . . Well, because you told me you did and I never forget anything, so this one's on you, right? . . . Pleasure doing business with you.” Lorelai hangs up, problem solved.
“What is your offspring doing?” Michel asks, wrinkling his nose.
“I need stamps,” Rory says as she digs through a drawer. “Can I have these?”
“No.”
“Take them.” Lorelai gestures at Rory's baggy oatmeal-beige sweater. She resents her daughter buying clothing she can’t borrow. “What's with the muumuu?’
“Stop.”
“No, I'm just saying, you couldn't find one made of metal in case anyone has x-ray eyes?”
“It’s on backorder,” Hayden shouts across the lobby.
“Ooh, hey, have Michel look at your French papers before you go,” Lorelai says.
“Excuse me?” Michel can’t possibly have heard that correctly.
“That'd be great!” Rory enthuses.
“No.”
“Come on, Michel.” Rory works the winning smile she learned from her mother. “I'll tell all the ladies what a stud you are.”
“I believe that memo has already been sent,” Michel says, snippily.
“Oh, please, Michel.” Lorelai uses her terrible French accent. “Pretty please with sucre on top. I vil stop talkin’ like ceese.”
For the sake of his sanity, Michel relents. “Leave them. I will look at them if I get a chance.”
“They’re due tomorrow,” Rory instructs, “and pay special attention to the grammar.”
Securing the ball in her glove, Hayden comes over and slings an arm around her twin’s shoulder. Rory’s manners tend to disappear when school grades enter the equation. “What my twin means to say is ‘thank you, Michel. We really appreciate your help’.”
“That was implied,” Rory says.
Michel narrows his eyes as he looks between the twins. “Your faces unnerve me.”
As the girls leave, Lorelai glares at Michel, who glowers back. “Do not pretend that you have never seen The Shining.”
___________________
Rory and Lane are walking to school. Hayden is behind them, tossing her baseball; it’s rare she doesn’t take any opportunity to practice her grips.
“When are you going to let your parents know that you listen to the evil rock music?” Rory asks as her best friend puts a Woodstock '99 shirt on over the shirt she left home in.
“Rory, if my parents still get upset over the obscene portion size of American food, I seriously doubt I'm gonna make any inroads with Eminem,” Lane says.
“Maybe you should start with someone older, like Elvis?” Hayden suggests.
“Mom thinks anyone with that amount of hip movement must be possessed by the devil.”
If anyone’s possessed by the devil, it’s the terrifying Mrs Kim. Not that Hayden will say that; even if they are evil, you don’t talk smack about someone’s mom. “See you guys later,” she says instead, jogging away to join some of her friends.
Rory and Lane stop so Lane can put on her not-Mrs Kim-approved jacket. “I have to go to that,” she says despondently, nodding at a poster on the notice board.
“The hayride? You're kidding.”
“My parents set me up with the son of a business associate. He's gonna be a doctor.”
“How old is he?”
“Sixteen.”
“So, he's gonna be a doctor in a hundred years.”
“Well, my parents like to plan ahead.”
“God, you have to go to the hayride with him?”
“And his older brother.”
“Oh, now you're kidding.”
“Koreans never joke about future doctors. So, I guess you're not going, huh?”
“No, I'm still fuzzy on what's fun about sitting in the cold for two hours with a bundle of sticks up your butt.”
“Don't expect me to clear it up for you.”
As they walk inside, a guy standing on the steps watches them with interest.
___________________
“For those of you who have not finished the final chapters of Huckleberry Finn, you may use this time to do so,” the teacher instructs. “For those of you who have, you can start on your essay now. Whichever task you choose, do it silently.”
The girls in the surrounding seats pass a bottle of nail polish back and forth as Rory concentrates on writing in her notebook.
“Maybe it's a love letter?” One of them guesses.
“Or her diary?” Another suggests.
“Could be a slam book?”
The closest peers over Rory's shoulder. “It's the assignment.”
Her classmates turn away in confusion and disgust. Rory smiles to herself at their reaction.
___________________
“Take Mrs Langworthy's bags up to 314,” Lorelai instructs the bellboy. “Make sure the drapes are closed and there's extra soap, and she wants her pillow mints now.”
As occurs on an alarmingly frequent basis, sounds of unfolding catastrophe erupt from the kitchen.
“Sookie!” Lorelai cries as she rushes through the door that connects the lobby to her best friend’s inner sanctum.
“I’m okay!” Sookie assures, though the reassurance would hold more weight if she weren’t sprawled on the floor amidst a pile of pots and pans.
“Honey! I really need you to be more careful.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Sookie dismisses concerns for health and hauls herself to sit, smiling bright. “Guess what? I fixed the peach sauce!”
Lorelai’s more concerned with the red sauce seeping from the bandage on her head chef’s hand. “That's blood, you're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?”
“Oh, my stitches opened.” Back to what’s important. “I was using too much maple syrup! It strangled the fruit!”
“When did you get stitches?
“Friday night. Radish roses.” Sookie reaches up and tries to fetch the spoon from the counter. Lorelai will be less obsessed with the stitches and the blood and whatnot after she tastes the non-strangled peach sauce.
“Okay, stop moving,” Lorelai warns, as Sookie - ignoring her - lifts the saucepan of what she assumes is seriously hot liquid from the stove.
“You gotta taste the sauce! You have to try it while it's still warm!”
“Look, Sookie, I need you to be more careful. I need there to be fewer accidents.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sookie shoves a full spoon of peach sauce at her overly concerned boss.
All worries about employee welfare and medical insurance deductibles vanish from Lorelai’s brain. “Oh, dear god almighty, that's incredible!”
“I want to put it on the waffles tomorrow morning for breakfast!”
“I want to take a bath in this sauce!”
“I will make more!”
“Someday, when we open our own inn, diabetics will line up to eat this sauce.”
Sookie gasps with delight as she always does when the plan to start their own business is discussed.
“But the key to someday achieving that dream is for you to stay alive long enough so we can actually open an inn, you understand?” Lorelai continues
“Yes,” Sookie finally concedes. “I understand.”
“Alright. Now, let's get you up and to the doctor, on three.” Lorelai grabs Sookie’s hand and starts to haul her to her feet.
“Ow!”
“What?”
“Stepped on my thumb. Don't worry, it's the bleeding one, no new damage done.”
___________________
Hayden is on the grass area between the football field and baseball diamond, warming up to start her circuit training. These are exercise combinations she sets herself, and she’s usually on her own in doing them. Not that she’s alone on the field.
“Hayden!” Penny shouts over from where the cheerleaders are practising. “Party my house Saturday night?”
“I’ll be there!” Hayden hollers back.
“Her cousin’s in town!” Brit grins.
“Then I'll definitely be there!”
Laughter floats between the girls. Hayden shakes her arms out, takes a second to focus, then starts her first exercise. And is immediately interrupted.
“Come on, Gilmore,” Dan groans. “Why you gotta make us look bad?”
Instead of stopping, Hayden incorporates the middle finger into her burpee. “I ain’t making you look bad, Dan, your mirror has you covered for that.” She aims a shit-eating grin that makes him, and the four boys lolling against the chain link fence around the baseball diamond, laugh.
“I set you up for that one.”
“Of course you did. You know, you guys could join in.”
This is met with more laughter. Hayden wasn’t really expecting anything different. Though all the boys are either JV or varsity in football and baseball, conditioning is something they’ll only participate in if the coach is threatening them.
“Don’t know what you’re missing,” Hayden sing-songs just before exploding from a burpee into a sprint, visualising reaching a combined cross-country finish line and home plate as fast as she can.
___________________
Rory and Lane are walking the short distance from school to Lane’s house. They’re making fun of the girls who were making fun of Rory in class.
“Well, was it a good colour at least?”
“It had sparkles in it.”
“Wow.”
“And it smelled like bubble gum when it dried.”
“Oh, well, there's no way Mark Twain can compete with that.”
Lane calls out for her mom as they enter her family home, which also doubles as their family business, Kim’s Antiques. Locating someone in Lane’s house is never easy thanks to the piles of furniture occupying nearly every square inch of floor space. “We’ll meet you in the kitchen, Mom!” She calls when two minutes of searching between overstuffed rooms has failed.
“What?” Mrs Kim shouts back.
“The kitchen!” Rory repeats.
“Who's that?"
“It's Rory, Mom.”
“Oh.”
“Wow, I can hear the disappointment from here,” Rory sighs.
“Oh, come on.” Lane nudges her friend. “Stop it.”
“You know, it sucks that after all these years your mom still hates me.”
“She doesn't hate you,” Lane says.
“She hates my sister.”
“She doesn’t believe in co-ed sports. Or co-ed anything, really.”
“She hates my mother.”
“She doesn't trust unmarried women.”
“You're unmarried.”
“I'm hay riding with a future proctologist. I have potential.”
They make their way through to the kitchen where Mrs Kim is waiting with her post-school interrogation. “Go upstairs. Tea is ready. I have muffins - no dairy, no sugar, no wheat. You have to soak them in tea to make them soft enough to bite but they're very healthy. So, how was school? None of the girls get pregnant, drop out?”
“Not that we know of.”
“Though come to think of it, Joanna Posner was glowing a little.” Sometimes Rory can’t resist using sarcasm around Mrs Kim.
“What?!”
“Nothing, Mama,” Lane says quickly. “She's just kidding.”
“Boys don't like funny girls!”
Rory nods. “Noted.”
___________________
Lorelai rushes into the inn kitchen, waving an envelope. “Sookie! It’s here! It happened! They did it!”
“Okay, I'm gonna need a little bit longer sentence," Sookie says, patting out the tiny fire she may have just started.
“Chilton! The twins got in!”
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!”
“I know. Listen!” Lorelai unfolds a letter and begins to read. “Dear Ms Gilmore, we are happy to inform you that we have two vacancies at Chilton Preparatory starting immediately. Due to your daughters’ excellent credentials and your enthusiastic pursuit of their enrolment - I offered to do the principal to get them in - we would be happy to accept them as soon as the first semester's tuition has been received!”
They both giggle and hug. Lorelai has been trying to get the girls into a private school for years, and Sookie has been there with unwavering support throughout.
“This is it! Rory can finally go to Harvard like she's always wanted, and Hayden can get a baseball scholarship like she’s always wanted. They’ll get the education that I never got and get to do all the things that I never got to do, and then I can resent them for it and we can finally have a normal mother-daughter relationship.”
The best friends are giggling again when Rory and Hayden walk in after coming straight from school.
“Mom?” Rory ventures, suspicious. “You're happy.”
Lorelai bounces on the spot. “Yeah!”
“Did you do something slutty?”
“I'm not that happy. Here!” Lorelai hands the twins each a gift bag.
“What's going on?” Hayden looks from Lorelai to Sookie to Rory.
“Open them,” Lorelai encourages.
The twins open the bags and each pulls out a plaid skirt.
“I'm gonna be in a Britney Spears video?” Rory quips.
“You’re going to let me play my Britney Spears CD in the house?” Hayden smiles hopefully.
“No, and no. You’re-”
“You're going to Chilton!” Sookie interrupts.
“Mom?” Rory looks at Lorelai.
“You did it, guys. You got in.”
“How did this happen?” Rory’s stunned
“They have two open spots. You start Monday.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I don't believe this! Oh my god, we’re going to Chilton?!”
“You’re going to Chilton!” As she hugs her eldest, Lorelai looks over Rory’s shoulder at Hayden, who seems dumbstruck. “Hay, did you hear me? You’re going to Chilton.”
“I got in?” Hayden murmurs. “I mean, I actually got in? You didn’t really…with the principal, did you?” The other possibility is that she actually passed the entrance exam. Which, yeah, right.
“That was a joke, honey. You got in because you are an amazing kid. Just like your sister.” Lorelai pulls Hayden into a side hug and puts her other arm around Rory. “My girls are going to Chilton, Sookie!”
“Yes, they are! I'll make cookies; protestants love oatmeal!”
“We have to call Lane!” Rory grabs Hayden’s hand to drag her along. At the door, they pause and look back at Lorelai.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, kid.”
Hayden lets them have their moment, then has to ask. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you didn’t do the principal?”
___________________
Lorelai’s on the phone in the living room.
“I'm holding for Miss Bell. I've been trying to get a hold of her all day . . . Lorelai Gilmore . . . Hi! Oh, hi, hi. Yeah, uh, my daughters, Rory and Hayden, were just accepted, yay! . . . Thank you, and, um, I got the invoice for your enrolment fee. Wow, that is a lot of zeros . . . Uh-huh. It’s just I understood there would be some kind of concession for having two children enrolled at the same time? You know, a buy one get one free kinda deal? . . . That was a joke. And clearly not a very funny one, I'll be sure to strike it off my setlist. . . Uh-huh, okay, well, I guess what I’m wondering is if you couldn’t take part of it now, just to get them going? . . . But they’re supposed to start Monday, it just doesn’t give me a lot of time to pull a bank job . . . Again, I was just kidding . . . Oh no. No, I don’t want you to give up their spaces. I’ll just…I’ll have to figure it out.”
___________________
Several hours spent trying to figure it out have only succeeded in making a bank job seem an increasingly plausible option. “What do I do?” Lorelai repeats for the fifth time since Sookie came over bearing a celebratory bottle of wine that could easily become commiserative.
“You can have anything I own,” Sookie offers. “My car! Sell my car!”
A sweet suggestion with one glaring problem. “Oh, honey, no one wants your car.”
“True.” Not even Sookie herself wants her car.
“There's something I haven't thought of, I know there is. There’s something out there staring me right in the face. I just...I haven't seen it.”
It’s staring Sookie in the face, too. “You know, you might consider calling your par-”
“No.”
“But I don't think you have a-”
“Stop.”
“You can at least go and-”
“Uh.”
“Okay, can I say one more thing? I think it's your only option.”
“Sookie, there are several chapters from a Stephen King novel I'd reenact before I'd resort to that option.”
Though Sookie doesn’t see an alternative, she takes the hint. “Okay, dropped.”
“Thank you.”
Around the corner of the porch, Hayden is leaning against the doorframe, listening to Lorelai and Sookie’s conversation. Chilton’s fees are like thirty grand a year, each. No way can their mom scrape together that kind of cash.
“Mom?” Rory, oblivious to all undercurrents, rushes outside in her new Chilton skirt and twirls. “What do you think?”
“Wow, it makes you look smart!” Sookie gushes.
“Okay, no more wine for you. Mom?”
“You look like you were swallowed by a kilt.”
“Fine, you can hem it. A little.”
“Ooh.”
Rory knows that ooh. “Only a little.”
“Okay. Or I could hem it a lot.”
“No, you're not,” Rory protests. “I don't want it to be too short.”
As the three walk inside, Hayden falls in behind them and watches her sister dance around the room.
“I can't believe tomorrow's my last day at Stars Hollow High,” Rory trills. “Today, I was so excited, I dressed for Gym.”
“You're kidding.” Lorelai looks to Hayden for confirmation. Hayden, perching on the edge of the sofa, nods.
“And I played volleyball.”
“With other people?” Lorelai asks as she grabs hold of Rory to get her to stand still. This is not usually the twin she has this problem with.
“And I learned that all this time I've been leaving the Gilmore twins' organised sports representation to Hayden?”
“Yeah?”
“Was very smart because I suck at them.”
“Well, yeah, you got that from me,” Lorelai shrugs as she finishes pinning the hem of Rory’s skirt.
Hayden looks away. Never once has that sentence been said about her and her mom.
“Where's your pâté?” Sookie asks Lorelai.
“At Zsa-Zsa Gabor's house?”
“I'm going to the store because you have nothing. You feel like duck?”
“Ooh, if it's made with chicken, absolutely.” As Sookie heads out the door, Lorelai looks up from her crouched position at Rory’s feet. “Alright, this will give you an idea. Go see how you like it.”
“Okay. I love being a private schoolgirl!” Rory skips to her bedroom to check her skirt length.
Lorelai watches her eldest go, forced enthusiasm dropping from her expression to be replaced by worry. As is common, she’s forgotten that Hayden is in the room.
“Mom?”
Lorelai tries to hide her start of surprise. “Hon, can you try on your skirt, too? I want to get both of them done tonight.”
“You know I don’t have to go, right?”
“Go where?” Lorelai rummages for pins in her workbox.
“Chilton.”
“We’ve been through this, Hay.”
“The only reason we both applied is because Rory wouldn’t do it alone. She’s in now. I’m fine staying at Stars Hollow.”
Lorelai gets to her feet and comes over to the couch. “Yes, this started because we wanted to give Rory the best shot possible at getting into Harvard, but I saw your face when we visited Chilton and saw all the sports stuff. An indoor track? A baseball square thingy that looks like something out of a college brochure? This is your shot, too.”
“The facilities are amazing, but they’re amazing because the school costs crazy money. We can’t afford to send both of us, Mom, and if only one of us can go, that one should be Rory.” Hayden hadn’t bothered arguing this vital point earlier in the application process because she didn’t believe there was a chance in hell she’d get in.
“Both of you are going to Chilton, Hayden.”
“But-”
“I love that you don’t take money for granted, and I love how much you love your sister, but please let me handle this.”
There’s no arguing when Lorelai uses that stubborn tone. Hayden gets up slowly and kisses her mom’s cheek. “I’ll go try on my skirt.”
Lorelai watches Hayden walk away, then looks at the photos on the mantelpiece. As much as it’s going to hurt, there is only one way that she can make good on her promises to her kids.
___________________
Sitting on her Jeep runner, Lorelai’s sipping coffee and getting herself into a place of mental preparedness to step into the house behind her. She left it for good when she was eighteen and has only been back since for short visits on various holidays; it’s the first time since they were born that she’s been here without the twins. Swallowing the last of her coffee and a vast portion of her pride, she steps to the front door and rings the bell.
Good manners prevent a person from greeting a guest with ‘My god, is someone dead?’, but that’s the level of shock Emily experiences at finding her only daughter on the doorstep. “Lorelai, my goodness, this is a surprise. Is it Easter already?”
“No, I just, uh, finished up my business class, and I thought I would stop by.”
“To see me?”
“Yes.”
Emily waits for the punchline. When Lorelai simply holds that ‘I dropped a cigarette on the Chinese rug and am really hoping you don’t notice’ smile, Emily concludes that, yes, her daughter is here to visit, as unbelievable as it may seem. “Well, isn't that nice. Come in.”
“Thanks.” As Lorelai walks inside, she feels the years falling away. “The place looks great.”
“It hasn't changed.”
Is Lorelai being paranoid to think they’re both looking at the bare patch of floor where that gaudy Chinese rug used to lie? Possibly. This house makes her paranoid. “How are the girls at the bridge club?”
“Old.”
So much for small talk. “Well…good.”
They take seats opposite each other in the living room.
“You said you were taking a business class?”
Lorelai has been taking business classes for years in pursuit of her degree and has mentioned them at every Christmas and Easter visit. The degree will hold the same merit as if she’d gone to a four-year school, but because she didn’t go to a four-year school, thus fulfilling her parents’ wishes, they will choose to pretend her qualification is coming out of an arcade claw machine. “Yeah. I'm taking a business class at the college twice a week. I'm sure I told you.”
“Well, if you're sure, then you must have.” There’s a long silence. “Would you like some tea?”
“I would love some coffee.”
If mother and daughter admitted what they wanted most was a glass of bourbon they’d find themselves in agreement for perhaps the first time ever.
“Emily?” Richard calls. “I'm home!”
“We're in here!”
Richard enters the room. He’s as stunned as his wife was when he sees who the ‘we’ refers to.
Lorelai pulls out another fake smile. “Hi, Dad.”
“What is it, Christmas already?” A quick check of Emily’s pleasant expression indicates nothing dire has happened to either of the twins, which means there can only be one reason for his daughter’s impromptu visit.
“Lorelai was taking a business class at the college today and decided to drop in to see us.”
“What business class?”
“Well, she told us about it, dear, remember?” Emily is fully aware she is being petty but if Lorelai had married Christopher, moved into the house down the street she and Richard picked out, and allowed the twins to be looked after by a nanny - that she and Richard were willing to pay for - Lorelai could have gone to a four-year school and gotten a degree when she was twenty-two instead of trawling her way through night school for the past however many years.
“Well, actually, I came here for a reason.” Might as well get this over with. “Dad, would you mind sitting down for a minute?”
Richard sighs as he sits. This is the reason Lorelai is here. “You need money.”
“I have a situation.”
“You need money.”
“Dad, will you just please let me get this out, okay? I was hoping I could borrow - please note the verb - some money for the twins.”
Richard does some quick calculations. “Oh god. One of them is pregnant.”
“What?!” Emily snaps in horror.
“They’re fifteen!” Lorelai’s offended tone quickly fades. “Which, okay, not outside the realms of possibility given my track record, but no, neither of them is pregnant.”
“You’re sure?” If Richard is to be a great-grandfather before the age of sixty, he will have to make sure the life insurance policy is updated so Emily gets a fair payout when he drops dead from shame.
“I haven’t demanded they take tests, but yes, I'm sure.”
“Are they sick? Do they require specialist care?”
For god's sake… “They’re not pregnant, sick, or searching for investors in the drug cartel they just incorporated. They’ve both been accepted to Chilton.”
“Chilton?” Emily’s horror turns to happiness. “Oh, that's a wonderful school! It's only five minutes from here.”
And the hits just keep on coming.
“That's right, it is.” Lorelai forces another smile. “They can start as early as Monday. Um, the problem is that they want me to put down an enrolment fee plus the first semester's tuition, and I have to do that immediately or they lose the spots.”
“So, you need money,” Richard repeats, just as he suspected.
“Yeah, but it's not for me, it's for the twins, and I fully intend to pay you back every cent. I don't ask for favours, you know that.”
“Oh, yes, we know that,” Emily mumbles to herself.
“I'll get the checkbook,” Richard says as he stands.
“Thank you,” Lorelai sighs. “You have no idea. Thank you.”
“On one condition.” Emily cuts over Lorelai’s gratitude.
“So close,” Lorelai mumbles to herself.
“Since we are now financially involved in your life, I want to be actively involved in your life.”
“What does that mean, Mother?”
This is an opportunity not to be missed. She’s not proud that she has to coerce her daughter like this, but after thirteen years of barely seeing her grandchildren, Emily is not going to let pride get in the way. “I want a weekly dinner.”
“What?”
“Friday nights, you and the twins will have dinner here.”
Would working as a stripper really be that bad? “Mom...”
“And you have to call us once a week to give us an update on their schooling and your life. That's it. That's the condition. If you agree, you'll come to dinner tomorrow night and leave here with a check. Otherwise, I'm sorry, we can't help you.”
Lorelai barely resists the urge to ask if they want to use her blood to write out the check. “I don't want the girls to know that I borrowed money from you. Can that just be between us?”
“Does seven o'clock work for you?”
The Darth Vader theme plays in Lorelai's head. “Perfect.”
___________________
Hayden is sitting at her coach’s desk. He fetches a file from a drawer, signs something, then slides the whole thing over to her.
“All your times and stats are there. Your new school should already have this stuff, but it's always best to have backups.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“We’re gonna miss you, Gilmore, but the Chilton Knights are a solid team at state level. A lotta people are gonna see just how good you are.” Way more than if she stayed at Stars Hollow High. As pained as Coach Bridger is to lose Hayden, he has no doubt it is the best move for her future.
“I hope so. Coach Murphy seemed open to letting a girl on the team when we looked around, but I don’t know, a girl pitcher at a rich school like Chilton?” Rich schools like tradition. A baseball pitcher with boobs? Not exactly traditional. Also, is she really good enough to match up to guys who have had private school facilities and specialist coaching for years?
“I have no concerns about you being coached by Ben Murphy, and he’s athletic director too, so if he deems you good enough to be on the team, you will be on the team.”
“Okay,” Hayden says, though she’s far from convinced.
“You’ll be running cross-country, too, I hope? You’ve got real talent, Gilmore, don’t waste it.”
“I’m really sorry about peacing out during the season. I know I'm giving you, like, zero notice, but two places have just come up and-”
“Gilmore, stop apologising. I wrote your recommendation, remember? This isn’t out of the blue.”
“But you had no idea I'd actually get in.”
“I had every idea you’d actually get in. The only person who doubted it was you.”
Hayden was the only freshman on varsity baseball last year, has the best mile times on the track team, and maintains a strong 3.5 GPA, yet none of these achievements seem to have boosted the girl’s faith in herself.
“Thanks, Coach,” Hayden mumbles to her lap, as always uncomfortable at receiving a compliment.
“It’s been a pleasure coaching you, Hayden. I’ll look out for you at Luke’s, I'll wanna hear all about Chilton.”
Hayden suddenly has a lump in her throat. “Thanks, Coach.”
The coach smiles and goes back to his usual self. “Now, get out. I have academic achievement records to groan at.”
Hayden leaves the office and loiters in front of the hand-drawn ‘Let’s Go SHH Minutemen!’ posters that line the corridor, both apprehensive and excited for what it might mean to be a Chilton Knight.
___________________
Rory is cleaning out her locker while filling Lane in on Chilton. “And we get to wear uniforms,” she gushes. “No more having people check you out to see what jeans you're wearing 'cause everyone's dressed alike in boring clothes and just there to learn.”
“Okay, there's academic-minded and then there's Amish.” Lane is seriously glad Hayden is going to this new school, too, otherwise she’d be worried her best friend is going to get mercilessly bullied. “So, I told my mom you were changing schools,” she continues as Rory shuts the empty locker and they start down the hallway.
“Was she thrilled?”
“The party's on Friday,” Lane teases. “Okay, I gotta go. I have to have a pre-hayride cup of tea with a future doctor. How do I look? Korean?”
“Spitting image.” And nothing like the Lane Rory knows.
“Good. Bye!”
“Bye,” Rory calls after her friend and promptly stumbles, sending a book tumbling from the box. She stoops to pick it up and almost has a heart attack when she stands and finds someone right in front of her. “God! You're like Ruth Gordon, just standing there with a tannis root. Make a noise.”
“Rosemary's Baby.”
At the correct identification of her quote, Rory looks at the speaker’s face; his very cute face. “Yeah,” she says, mouth running dry.
“Well, that's a great movie. You've got good taste,” Dean says, smiling. “Are you moving?” He seriously hopes not.
“No, just my books are.” Is this what deer in headlights feel like?
“My family just moved here from Chicago,” Dean continues.
“Chicago. Windy. Oprah.” Awesome, so now she’s playing word association in front of an incredibly cute guy who can quote Rosemary’s Baby. Rory’s mouth loses every drop of moisture left.
“Yeah,” Dean smiles. This girl’s cute when she’s nervous. “Yeah, that's the place. I'm Dean.”
“Hi.” The boy’s staring at her like it’s still her turn to talk. Which is because it is still her turn to talk. Crap! “Oh, I’m Rory,” she rushes. "Me. That's…that's me.”
“Rory.” A unique name for a unique girl.
“Well, Lorelai technically.”
“Lorelai. I like that.”
“It's my mother's name, too. She named me after herself. She was lying in the hospital thinking about how men name boys after themselves all the time, you know, so why couldn't women? She says her feminism just kind of took over. Personally, I think a lot of Demerol also went into that decision because she named my twin sister ‘Hayden’, which is our dad’s last name. She says it was only fair to him, but there was no way she was going to call her daughter ‘Christopher’.” Great, she’s gone from monosyllabic to rambling in nought point five.
“Well, I better go,” Dean says, though he wishes he could stay. “I have to look for a job.”
So his reason for leaving isn’t because he thinks she’s an idiot? “Okay, good.” A thought penetrates the cute boy haze that Rory always thought she was immune to. “You should check with Miss Patty,” she calls after the cause of the haze.
“What?” Dean turns back.
“About the job. You should check with Miss Patty. She teaches dance. She was actually on Broadway once.”
“I…I don't really dance much.”
“No, no, she just kind of knows everything that's going on in town. She'll know if someone's looking.”
“Oh, great. Uh, thanks.” Screw it, might as well take a shot. “Hey, what are you doing now?”
Rory’s brain almost short-circuits. “Now? Nothing.”
“Well, maybe you could show me where this Miss Patty's place is.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I really don't have anything important to-” Don’t babble! “Let’s go.”
Dean takes the box of her belongings to carry, and Rory’s torn between demanding them back and swooning.
Hayden spots her twin across the lawn and jogs over. “You get your locker cleaned out okay?” She notices Dean holding the box of books. Huh. Rory and a boy. This is a new development. “I’m gonna take him as a yes.”
“Hayden, this is Dean. Dean, this is Hayden. My sister. We’re twins. Identical.”
“I guessed that last part,” Dean smiles. “Hi, Hayden. Nice to meet you.”
“And you. So, where are you two headed?”
“Miss Patty’s. About a job. Not about dancing. Dean doesn’t dance. I don’t either. Dance, that is.”
Hayden bites her lip to stop her smile from broadening. “Yeah, I kinda already knew that.”
Taking pity on her sister, Hayden starts toward Miss Patty’s. As she hoped, Rory and Dean fall in behind her. She’s glad when the conversation she interrupted starts up again. When the trio reach the dance studio, Hayden waits for them to complete an awkward goodbye - where Rory praises the nearby bakery for having round cakes - but has to intervene when the two continue to just stare at each other. She takes the box of Rory’s stuff from Dean, saying, “Word of warning, Miss Patty likes her men tall.”
“What?”
“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Hayden steers her sister away. They cross the street toward home, leaving Dean looking dazed.
___________________
Lorelai and Rory are dining at Luke’s in less than companionable silence, Lorelai confused by Rory’s change of attitude since last night’s giddy private schoolgirl routine.
Luke brings their main courses to the table with the blunt warning, “Red meat can kill you.”
“Which is the reason Hayden gave for eating at home.”
“Smart girl. Enjoy.”
Lorelai starts eating with her usual gusto while Rory only picks at her food.
“I finished hemming your skirt today.” Lorelai waits. Again, Rory ignores the attempt to start a conversation. “A grunt of acknowledgement might be nice.”
“I just don't understand why we're going to dinner with Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow night,” Rory repeats. “I mean, what if I had plans? What if Hayden had practice? You didn’t even ask us.”
“Well, if either of you had plans, I would have known.”
“How?”
“Because Hayden pins her practice schedule up on the fridge, and you would have told me if you were doing anything.”
“I don't tell you everything,” Rory protests. “I have my own things.”
“Fine, you have things.”
“That's right. I have things.”
Lorelai tries to joke them out of this fight. “Hey, I had dibs on being the bitch tonight.”
“Just tonight?” Rory mutters sullenly.
Okay, enough. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I'm not sure I want to go to Chilton.”
Lorelai blinks. “What?”
“The timing is just really bad.” Why did she have to meet Dean today?
“The timing is bad?” Lorelai repeats, slowly.
Not that Rory can tell her mom why Stars Hollow High suddenly seems a lot more attractive. “And the bus ride to and from Hartford, it's like thirty minutes each way.”
“I can't believe what I'm hearing.” What happened to her daughter’s excitement?
It’s not like Stars Hollow is a terrible school; there’s nothing wrong with public schools. “Plus, I don't think we should be spending that money right now. I mean, I know Chilton's got to be costing you a lot.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Lorelai tosses down her fork, no longer hungry.
“All of your money should be going toward buying an inn with Sookie.”
“What about college? What about Harvard?”
“We don't know that I can't get into Harvard if I stay where I am.” Even though Rory may have vociferously argued the exact opposite in the past.
“Enough of the crazy talk, okay?” Lorelai snaps. “I appreciate your concern, but I have this covered.”
“I still don't want to go.”
“Why?”
Because I met a guy. “Because I don't.”
Nuh-uh. No. This is not happening. “I have to get out of here.”
“We have to pay first,” Rory protests as her mother heads for the door.
“Luke! Put it on the tab!”
“I don’t do tabs,” Luke shoots back.
“Then add it to tomorrow’s check!”
“How is that not a tab?! And she’s leaving. Of course, she is.”
___________________
There’s nothing companionable about the silence that accompanies Lorelai and Rory as they pass the dance studio where Miss Patty is watching over a class of little girls.
“One-two-three. One-two-three. One-two-three. It's a waltz, ladies. Susie, do you have to tinkle? Then uncross your legs, darling. Oh, Rory, good. I think I found a job for your male friend.”
Lorelai’s mom-dar twitches. “What male friend?”
“They need a stock boy at the supermarket. I already talked to Taylor about him. You just send him around tomorrow.”
“Okay, thanks,” Rory mumbles.
“What male friend?” Lorelai repeats.
“Oh, he's very cute. You have good taste.” Miss Patty turns back to her dance class. “Hands in the air, not in the nose.’
Rory, hands in pockets, head down, hurries away.
“Oh, you're gonna have to channel your sister and walk faster than that to get away from me,” Lorelai snaps as she follows.
___________________
Hayden found early in life that her constitution can’t cope with the sheer amount of processed crap Lorelai and Rory insist on consuming, so does her own thing for her meals. Since she became serious about sports, she’s also careful about nutritional content. She’s clearing up after a dinner of salmon, rice and broccoli when the front door slams.
“This is about a boy, of course!” Lorelai exclaims, stomping after Rory into the living room. “I can't believe I didn't see it! All this talk about money and bus rides. You got a thing going with a guy, and you don't want to leave school. God, I'm so dense! That should have been my first thought. After all, you're me.”
“I'm not you.”
“Really? Someone willing to throw important life experiences out the window to be with a guy? It sounds like me to me.”
“Whatever.”
Not only is Rory taking a comparison to their mother as an insult – itself unprecedented – she’s being all sullen teenager in a non-ironic way? Hayden’s concern rockets from mild to serious. “What’s going on?”
“Your sister has suddenly decided that Chilton is a no-go.”
“What?!”
“Did she not discuss it with you? Colour me shocked.” Lorelai focuses back on Rory. “So, who is he?”
“There's no guy!”
“Dark hair? Romantic eyes? Looks a little dangerous?”
“This conversation is over.”
“Tattoos are good, too!”
“I don't want to change schools because of all the reasons I've already told you a thousand times. If you don't want to believe me, that's fine. Goodnight!” Rory completes the sullen teenager stereotype by stomping to her room and slamming the door behind her.
“Does he have a motorcycle?! 'Cause if you're gonna throw your life away, he better have a motorcycle!”
“Someone wanna fill me in?” Hayden tries again.
Lorelai ignores her youngest and walks into the twins’ bedroom. “Well, I think that went pretty well, don't you?”
“Thanks for the knock,” Rory snaps.
“Listen, can we just start all over, okay? You tell me all about the guy and I promise not to let my head explode, huh? Rory, please talk to me.” There’s furious Doc Marten lace untying but no talking, fine. “Okay, I'll talk. Don't get me wrong. Guys are great. I am a huge fan of guys. You don't get knocked up at fifteen being indifferent to guys. But, babe, guys are always going to be there. This school isn't. It's more important. It has to be more important.”
“I'm going to sleep,” Rory says, tossing away her boots and picking up a book without looking at her mother.
Dammit. This is the part of her character that Lorelai’s always hoped she didn’t pass on to either of her daughters. “Rory,” she tries again to be understanding, “you’ve always been so sensible, I need you to remember that feeling now. You will kick your own butt later if you blow this.”
“Well, it's my butt.” Rory abandons her book and flops onto her bunkbed, facing the wall.
“Good comeback.”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Lorelai touches Rory’s back. “Rory, come on.”
“I don't want to talk about this!” Rory shrugs off her mother’s attempts at reconciliation. “Could you please, please just leave me alone?”
“Okay, calming down would be good right now,” Hayden suggests nervously from the doorway.
“I’m perfectly calm,” Lorelai retorts. “And Rory wants me to leave her alone? Fine. Just let me say this first. We always had a democracy in this house. We never did anything unless we all agreed. But now I guess I'm going to have to play the mom card. You are going to Chilton with your sister, whether you want to or not. Monday morning, you will be there, end of story.”
“We'll see,” Rory retorts.
“Yeah, we will.” Lorelai sidesteps Hayden and slams the door on her way out.
“Is this about Dean?” Hayden asks her twin.
“I don’t want to talk about it!”
Macy Gray’s album drifts from the living room. Rory reaches to her nightstand and presses play on her copy of the CD.
Hayden turns down the volume. “Rory, I’m scared about going to a new school too, but I thought this was what you wanted?”
Rory turns up the volume and turns onto her side again, this time away from her sister. Hayden has enough experience with Rory’s stubbornness that she doesn’t try to talk to her again.
To the backing track of duelling Macy Gray albums, Hayden finishes cleaning the kitchen, chastising herself for encouraging Rory to keep talking to Dean.
___________________
The ruined stove is still smoking.
“I swear, I don’t know what happened,” Sookie laments.
“It’s not important,” Lorelai sighs, scribbling her signature on a work order.
“I made that dish a hundred times and it never exploded.”
“Please, forget it.”
How can Sookie forget it?! “I killed a Viking! You should fire me or take the cost of a new stove out of my paycheck!”
“Whatever you want.”
Sookie swings from contrite to horrified. “I can’t afford a new stove! Those things are expensive!”
Lorelai gathers the remaining threads of her patience. “Sookie, please, I’m begging you, pull yourself together, okay? I got no sleep last night and I think I put my contacts in backwards.”
Sookie makes a stab at pulling herself together; it’s easier when she’s not looking directly at the smouldering remnants of her exploded Viking. “Rory’s still mad at you, huh?”
“Hey, I’m not so crazy about her, either,” Lorelai retorts.
“It was a fight. Mothers and daughters fight.” Come to think of it, Sookie and her own mother once got into a furious fight over an exploded Easy-Bake oven.
“No, we don't fight. Rory and I don’t fight. Hayden and I don’t fight. They sometimes fight with each other, but never with me.”
Michel pushes into the kitchen, more woebegone than usual. “You told me to tell you when your daughter arrived. Well, a daughter is here and it is sitting in my chair. Do not ask me to identify which one it is.”
___________________
Even without the difference in hair type, Rory would be identifiable by the attitude hanging around her like fog. So much for Lorelai not passing on this part of her personality.
“Hey, no muumuu today. You know what's weird, I kind of miss it.”
Rory ignores the attempt at banter. “You left us a note to meet you here.”
“Yeah. I thought you might want to work a couple hours, make a little extra cash. Where’s your sister?”
Rory shrugs, still refusing to look at Lorelai.
“Aw, you're not gonna give me the ‘Mommy Dearest’ treatment forever, are you?”
“You wanted one of us here; one of us is here. Should I do something or what?”
Lorelai drops the pretence of patience. “Yeah, go home. Dinner's at seven. Be ready to go.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
___________________
Lorelai and the twins have been standing at the mansion’s imposing front door for five minutes. No one has yet knocked or rung the bell.
“So, do we go in or do we just stand here reenacting The Little Match Girl?”
The sarcastic whine Rory’s mastered in the past twenty-four hours is like splinters under Lorelai’s fingernails. “Okay, look, I know you and me are having a thing here, and I know you hate me, but I need you to be civil, at least through dinner, and then on the way home, you can pull a Menendez. Deal?”
Rory doesn’t hate her mom, but can’t say so for the same reason she can’t talk about Dean or stop being sarcastic. And if someone could tell her what that reason is before she bursts into the tears she’s felt like crying since last night, that’d be great. “Fine.”
Hayden sighs. She already doesn’t want to be here because she suspects Emily and Richard like Rory a lot more than her. “If Rory doesn’t want to go to Chilton anymore, do we really need to be here?”
“Rory is going to Chilton. As are you.” Lorelai pulls the bell chain.
Emily opens the door so swiftly that Hayden suspects she was right by it.
“Well, you're right on time.” Emily ushers them into the house. “I can't tell you what a treat it is to have you girls here.”
“Oh, well, we're excited, too,” Lorelai lies.
“Is that a collector's cup, or can I throw it away for you?”
“Oh.” Lorelai starts to toss her empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can.
“In the kitchen, please.”
Right. This house has strict rules over what trash can be thrown in what trash can, rules which have nothing to do with recycling. Is it too early for Lorelai to climb out the window?
“I want to hear all about Chilton,” Emily tells the twins.
“Well, we haven't actually started yet,” Rory says.
Hayden follows in silence, wondering how someone as smart as Rory hasn’t connected the dots with the reason behind tonight’s meal.
“Richard, look who's here,” Emily announces.
Richard glances up from his paper. He hasn’t seen his granddaughters in six months, and yet nothing springs to mind of what he should say to them. He selects an observation and tries to ignore how sad it makes him that this is all he has to offer. “Girls. You're tall.”
“I guess,” Rory shrugs.
“Well, what's your height?”
“5”7,” Hayden says.
“I’m 5”7,” Rory corrects.
“I’m nearly there.”
“You’ve been saying that for two years. I think it’s time to face facts. I’m 5”7; you’re 5”6 and a bit.”
“5”6 and two-thirds. Fine. 5”6 and a half.”
“5”6 and a bit. Hair is not height.” Rory pats Hayden’s curly hair.
“If I admit you’re taller than me, can we please say I'm 5”6 and a half?”
“Deal,” Rory agrees with a slightly smug grin.
Richard stopped listening at the first 5”7. “That's tall. You’re tall.”
“Hi, Dad.” Lorelai enters, empty coffee cup deliberately disposed of in the inappropriate trash can of the downstairs powder room.
“Lorelai, your daughters are tall.”
“Oh, I know. It's freakish. We're thinking of having them studied at M.I.T.”
“Ah.” Nice to see Lorelai’s humour is still as sharp as ever. Richard returns to reading his paper.
“Champagne, anyone?” Emily hands round a tray of glasses.
“Oh, that's fancy,” Lorelai says.
“Well, it's not every day that I have my girls here for dinner on a day the banks are open. A toast: to Rory and Hayden entering Chilton and an exciting new phase in their lives.”
“Here, here.”
Hayden, off balance with being in this house and Rory changing her mind about Chilton and the annoying reality that she’s still only 5”6 and a bit, forgets that toasts don’t always have to be chugged. She sucks down the champagne in two gulps, then remembers she’s not at Penny’s. “Nice vintage,” she says with an awkward smile.
Emily’s lip curls as she surveys her apparently borderline alcoholic granddaughter.
Hayden mouths ‘sorry’ at Lorelai, who waves it away.
“Well, let's sit everyone.” Emily wafts the twins towards the couch occupied by their grandfather, then takes the opposite with Lorelai. Hayden makes sure Rory sits next to Richard. “This is just wonderful. An education is the most important thing in the world, next to family.”
“And pie.”
Silence follows Lorelai’s quip. Hayden, fiercely protective of her mother, puts in, “That was a joke.”
Lorelai shoots Hayden a grateful wink while Emily is unimpressed at the further evidence her granddaughter has inherited Lorelai’s sense of humour, as well as a taste for alcohol long before it’s legal for her to imbibe.
There is another silence. The one fact Richard is in possession of about his granddaughters, aside from them being fifteen, 5”7, and - god willing - not pregnant, is that Rory is the smarter. He hands her a section of the newspaper.
Hayden really shouldn’t draw more attention to herself, but the more inappropriate the situation, the more uncontrollable her mouth becomes. “Got any Marmaduke in there?”
Withering silence flows from Emily, confusion from Richard. Lorelai takes pity on her daughter’s humour-reflex. “Joke.”
Hayden, smiling, returns her mom’s wink.
___________________
Dinner has begun. Lorelai is seated on the side to her mother’s left, while the twins occupy the side to her right.
“Rory, how do you like the lamb?” Emily asks.
“It's good.”
“Too dry?”
“No, it's perfect.”
“Hayden?”
Hayden’s not paranoid; Emily definitely uses a sharper tone when she says her name. “It’s spot on, Grandma.”
“Potatoes could use a little salt, though,” Lorelai says.
“Excuse me?”
“So, Grandpa, how's the insurance biz?” Rory gets in before Lorelai and Emily can start arguing.
“Oh, people die, we pay. People crash cars, we pay. People lose a foot, we pay.”
“Well, at least you have your new slogan,” Lorelai says.
Richard ignores the quip. “And how are things at the motel?”
Hayden’s defences kick in again. It’s an inn.”
“Things are great, Dad.” Lorelai gives Hayden a quick ‘chill’ eyebrow raise.
“Lorelai's the executive manager now,” Emily says. “Isn't that wonderful?”
“Speaking of which, Christopher called yesterday,” Richard announces.
Lorelai frowns. “Speaking of which? How is that a speaking of which?”
“He's doing very well in California. His internet start-up goes public next month. This could mean big things for him. Very talented man.”
Things that are guaranteed to set Hayden off? Insulting her mom or twin; the need to voice an inappropriate joke; any mention of her father. “At what?” She mutters into her dry lamb.
“He always was a smart one, that boy. Rory, you must take after him.”
“Makes me glad I'm the dumb one,” Hayden mutters again.
“What was that, Hayden?” Richard finally acknowledges his other granddaughter’s existence. “Lorelai, you should teach your daughter to enunciate.”
“Sure will, Dad.” Lorelai tosses down her napkin. “I'm just gonna go get a Coke. Or a knife.”
Rory starts to get up when Lorelai storms out. “I think I'm gonna go talk to her.”
“No, I'll go,” Emily says. “You girls stay and keep your grandfather company.”
___________________
There are many things in the kitchen that could be thrown - the large chocolate gateaux is most tempting - but if Lorelai starts smashing things, she doesn’t trust herself to stop, so she takes out her frustration on the washing up instead.
Being presented with the image of her daughter as kitchen skivvy hardly smoothes Emily’s irritation - it’s likely it was reality at some point during Lorelai’s ‘career’ - but she manages to keep her tone even as she says, “Lorelai, come back to the table.”
Lorelai was ordered to do just that many times as a child; she’s incensed that she’s in the same situation as an adult. “Is this what it's gonna be like every Friday night? I come over and let the two of you attack me?”
Her daughter causing havoc during a formal dinner; isn’t this a nice stroll down memory lane? “You're being very dramatic.”
“Dramatic? Were you at that table just now?”
“Yes, I was, and I think you took what your father said the wrong way.”
“The wrong way? How could I have taken it the wrong way? What was open to interpretation?”
“Keep your voice down,” Emily warns.
“No, Mother. I can't take it anymore! Tonight just seems like a nightmare. Why do you pounce on every single thing I say?”
“That's absurd. You barely uttered a word all night.”
“That's not true.”
“You said pie.”
“Oh, come on.”
“You did. All I heard you say was pie, which, according to Hayden, was a joke, though I have severe reservations about that girl’s sense of humour.”
“Why would he bring up Christopher? Was that really necessary? You know Hayden’s sensitive about her dad.”
Though this house has always felt like a fortress to Lorelai, the walls aren’t five feet thick, and every word shouted in the kitchen is audible in the dining room. Hayden shrinks a little in her seat as Rory and Richard exchange an awkward look.
“How would we know that?” Emily bristles. “We never see her. And your father likes Christopher.”
“Isn't that interesting?” Lorelai’s sarcasm is harsh. “Because, as I remember, when Christopher got me pregnant, Dad didn't like him so much.”
“Oh, well, please, you were fifteen. What were we supposed to do, throw you a party? We were disappointed. The two of you had such bright futures.” Futures that Emily grieves to this day.
“Yes, and by not getting married, we got to keep those bright futures.” How are they still having this same fight after fifteen years?
How does Lorelai still not grasp the basic facts? “When you get pregnant, you get married. A child needs a mother and a father. Twins even more so.” If tonight’s showing is any indication, Hayden is certainly suffering from a lack of boundaries and fatherly discipline.
“Oh, Mom. Do you think that Christopher would have his own company right now if we'd gotten married? Do you think he would be anything at all?” Apart from miserable?
“Yes, I do. Your father would have put him in the insurance business, and you'd be living a lovely life right now.”
“He didn't want to be in the insurance business, and I am living a lovely life right now.”
“That's right, far away from us.” Or is that why Lorelai considers it a lovely life?
“Oh, here we go.” The ‘woe is us, our daughter is a selfish bitch’ monologue.
“You took those girls and completely shut us out of your life.”
“You wanted to control me.”
“You were still a child.”
“I stopped being a child the minute the strip turned pink, okay? I had to figure out how to live. I found a good job.”
“As a maid. With all your brains and talent.”
“I worked my way up. I run the place now. I built a life on my own with no help from anyone.” Lorelai’s speaking to a diehard Republican; does that independence and hard work not hold some weight?
“Yes, and think of where you would have been if you'd accepted a little help, hmm?” There’s being independent and then there’s sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. “Where Rory and Hayden would have been? But, no, you were always too proud to accept anything from anyone.”
If only that were true. “Well, I wasn't too proud to come here to you two begging for money for my kids’ school, was I?”
“No, you certainly weren't,” Emily states, shoving aside the weakness inside her that wants to weep over what her relationship with her daughter has come to and replacing it with petty one-upmanship. “But you're too proud to let them know where you got it from, aren't you? Well, fine, you have your precious pride, and I have my weekly dinners. Isn't that nice? We both win.”
Rory looks at her sister, shocked.
“Where did you think the money was coming from?” Hayden sighs.
___________________
If Lorelai had the energy, she’d climb down the trellis for old time’s sake. As it is, she barely makes it out the front door without requiring a wall to lean on.
“Mom?” Rory says, voice absent of sarcasm or sullen whining.
“I'm okay. I just…do I look shorter? 'Cause I feel shorter.”
Hayden offers her arm to help Lorelai to the car. “That’s just ‘cause me and Rory are freakishly tall.
Rory clears her throat.
“Fine,” Hayden sighs. “Rory’s freakishly tall. I’m nearly freakishly tall.”
___________________
Rory spends the drive home thinking of the best way to apologise, but since the silence is companionable this time, she waits until the three of them are walking to Luke’s – her and Lorelai in front, Hayden just behind them – before talking.
“Nice dinner at the grandparents' house.”
Lorelai sighs. “Oh, yeah, her dishes have never been cleaner.”
“You and Grandma seemed to have a nice talk.”
“How much did you hear?”
“The walls weren’t lined with lead,” Hayden says, grateful she can speak now; she was waiting for a signal from Rory that it was okay.
“So, basically everything?”
“Basically, yes,” Rory confirms.
They enter Luke’s and sit at an empty table.
“I think it was really brave of you to ask them for money,” Rory says.
“Oh, I so do not want to talk about it.” Though Lorelai appreciates the implied apology.
“We know what it took for you to go to them, Mom,” Hayden says. “Thank you.”
“How many meals is it gonna take 'til we're off the hook?” Rory asks.
“I think the deli spread at my funeral will be the last one.” Lorelai latches onto the underlying meaning of Rory’s question. “Hey, wait, does that mean…?”
Rory nods. How was she even considering being one of those girls who passes up an amazing opportunity for a guy she just met? “Can't let a perfectly good plaid skirt go to waste.”
“Oh, honey, you won't be sorry.”
Lorelai and Rory rarely need to complete sentences to know exactly what the other one means; Hayden doesn’t share this talent. “So, we’re definitely going to Chilton?” She checks.
“We’re definitely going to Chilton.” Rory uses her best ‘Isn’t my dense sister kinda cute’ smile.
Hayden nods. Rory says they’re going, they’re going; that’s how the Gilmore twins work.
Luke walks up to the table dressed in a button-down shirt, looking far more polished than his usual lumberjack chic.
“Wow, you look nice,” Lorelai says.
“I had a meeting earlier at the bank. They like collars. You all look nice, too.”
“I had a flagellation to go to.”
“So, what'll you have?”
“Coffee, in a vat.”
“I'll have coffee also. And chilli fries also,” Rory says.
“Hayden? I’m guessing you’re not an ‘also’ on that order?”
Hayden grins up at Luke for knowing her tastes. “So not an also. Fruit plate, please. And an iced water.”
“At least I don’t have to worry about her keeling over from a heart attack.” Luke looks pointedly at Lorelai and then leaves to fetch their food.
“So, tell me about the guy,” Lorelai orders Rory.
“You know what's really special about our relationship? The total understanding about the need for one's privacy. I mean, you really understand boundaries.”
“So, tell me about the guy.”
“Mom!”
“He’s tall.”
“Hayden!”
“How tall?”
“I’d say he’d hit an ‘extremely freakish’ on Grandpa’s height chart,” Hayden says.
“Is he dreamy?”
“Oh, that's so Nick at Night,” Rory sighs.
“Well, I'm gonna find out anyway,” Lorelai says.
“Really? How?”
“I'll spy.”
Luke returns with their order. “Coffee, fries; I can't stand it. This is so unhealthy. Rory, please, put down that cup of coffee. You do not want to grow up to be like your mom.”
“Sorry.” Rory smiles at her mom. “Too late.”
Luke sighs. “People who have a shot at not developing type two diabetes by age twenty-five say ‘what’.”
“What!” Hayden grins through a mouthful of apple.
Luke offers a hand for Hayden to slap while aiming a pointed look at Lorelai.
Hayden completes the high-five, and Luke shoots her one of his rare smiles as he returns to the counter. Hayden feels something when Luke smiles at her like that; she’s not sure what exactly she feels, just that she wishes he’d do it more. Suddenly, less pleasant thoughts invade her brain. “Oh god, if I'm not like you, does that mean I’ll grow up to be like Dad?”
“Would now be a good time to tell you that you were adopted?” Lorelai asks.
“Yes.”
Rory arches an eyebrow. “You adopted a kid with the exact same face as your biological daughter?”
“I’m just that good.”
The Gilmore girls share a happy smile.
“So, tell me about the guy.”
“Check, please.”
“Does he talk at all?”
“No, Mom, he's a mime.”