Summary – Lorelai gets a letter
Disclaimer – Aw jeez, do I really have to waste time on this? They’re not mine, okay?
Author’s Note – Vlaflip. That’s a Dutch word and it’s funny. Also, a gimonguous thank you goes out to all THREE of my beta readers Calyn, Ivy and Kasey. They have been patient, critical and harsh and provided a great perspective, especially on this story. Thank you so much, you guys! Well, girls.
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Dear Nicole,
I’m sorry to have to do this to you by means of a letter, but you know how bad I am with words. Especially when they’re supposed to come out of my mouth.
I can’t stay married to you or continue dating you. I’ve really tried these past few month, but you must have noticed that something wasn’t right between us. And you must have noticed something else, as well. Something called Lorelai. I don’t want to add insult to injury, Nicole, but I feel you have the right to know all of my reasons.
You see, I can’t quite give up on the chance that maybe one day, she’ll see me as something more than just a good friend and coffee supplier. I’ve tried not to love her, but I do.
I have included a signed copy of the divorce papers. I’m sorry.
Luke
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The door to the diner slammed open so hard it almost broke off its hinges as it hit the wall. Kirk dropped his ice cream in his lap and cowered under the table.
Lorelai walked in, looking disheveled in ratty old jeans and a large black sweater that hung off one shoulder.
“LUKE! What the hell is this?!”
Kirk whimpered.
Luke was standing behind the counter, where seconds ago, he was screwing the top on a refilled salt shaker. It now lay at his feet, in shards.
Lorelai walked up to the counter and slammed a piece of paper down on its gleaming surface.
“I said, what the hell is this?”
Luke looked at it and his eyes immediately widened in surprised shock.
“Lorelai, where’d you get this?” he asked shakily.
“Just tell me what it is, Luke, before I go ballistic!” Lorelai said in barely controlled anger.
Lorelai’s tone of voice sparked an anger in Luke. He grabbed the piece of paper from under her hands.
“This is a letter I sent to Nicole yesterday. How the hell did you get it?”
“Because this is not it, Luke.” She looked him in the eye triumphantly and snatched the paper back. “This is a copy of that particular letter. It arrived at my house two hours ago. Nicole sent it to me, with a note attached that said, ‘I thought you should know this.’”
“Oh. Why would she do that?” Luke asked, taken aback.
Lorelai shrugged, an angry, bitter little movement of her shoulders. The sweater sagged some more.
“I don’t know. What I do know, however, is that I went completely insane after reading it. I first walked around the couch ten times, wishing the letter had never arrived. When that didn’t work, I completely freaked out. I almost considered pulling a Mulder, but shooting Rory in the face with a shotgun and then leaving you to identify her as me seemed a little impossible.”
“Because you don’t have a shotgun.”
“That, too.”
“But -”
“What I really want to know is, I guess, is why you didn’t tell me.”
Kirk piped up. “Luke, I need something to clean myself up.”
“Out, Kirk,” he replied with barely a glance in Kirk’s direction and a mildly impatient tone.
“But, Luke... I have ice cream in my lap.”
“Out, Kirk,” he repeated with a little more force this time.
“But - ”
“Kirk! Get the fuck out of here this goddamn instant!” Lorelai yelled and fixed Kirk with a death glare. He scampered out of the diner, a large white spot staining the front of his jeans.
Lorelai walked to the door and closed it, turning around with her arms folded in front of her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she repeated. Her anger had almost completely dissipated.
He decided to play dumb. “Tell you what?”
She gave him an exasperated look, then held the paper out in front of her and started to read out loud.
“You see, I can’t quite give up on the chance that maybe one day, she’ll see me as something more than just a good friend and coffee supplier. I’ve tried not to love her, but I do.”
“Oh, that,” he murmured.
“Yes, that, Luke.” She walked up to him and asked again, softer this time. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Fidgeting, he wondered how he could possibly tell her. How could he admit this to her and not have her pity him?
“Luke?” She was standing at the counter, her hands on the top. As her eyes are searched his face, he felt himself crumbling under her scrutiny.
“I didn’t think you’d want me,” he confessed quietly, as if he were a petulant child. He stared at his shoes.
His head snapped up when her hand slammed down on the countertop. She looked at him, a furious expression on her face.
“Are you INSANE?”
“What?”
She started pacing the length of the diner, all the while shaking her head. Then she stood still again, and looked at him.
“Are you completely and totally off your rocker?”
He didn’t understand why she was angry again. “Lorelai, what-”
“Please tell me something, Luke. What is there that is so wrong with you that I wouldn’t want you? Huh? Tell me that.”
He was silent.
But she was on a roll. “Why is it that you always think so low of yourself? Why is it that you always think that you don’t deserve anything? Were you really planning on spending the rest of your life alone and miserable?”
“No...”
“What was that, Luke? Was that a no? I sure hope it wasn’t, because you seem to be doing a pretty good job of doing just that. Being alone. Miserable. Not going after anything in life that you really want. When - and I am being very serious here, Luke, more serious than I’ve ever been in my entire life - when it is clear to me, absolutely crystal, that you deserve everything you want.”
His head snapped up. What was she saying here?
She was standing in the middle of the diner, her hands wildly gesturing. Her face was flushed red and that sweater still hung off one shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice that there was no bra strap and that her skin was gleaming, even under the fluorescent light.
“You are a hardworking man, a wonderful friend, a caring uncle. You feed these people here, even though you think they are poisoning themselves. You cared for Jess as though he were your own son, and you actually thought you had failed him when he left. When in fact, Luke, he gave up on you. He failed you.”
Luke started to protest, but she cut him off.
“No, shut up. I’m not done yet. As for the friend part, you are the best friend anyone could wish for. You serve me coffee, even though you think it’s bad for me; you change my waterbottle for me; you come running whenever I call because I need to get something fixed; you.…”
She stopped, realization dawning.
“Oh...”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling sadly.
“Oh…” she repeated.
Her hands fell limp at her side and she was completely speechless. She seemed to be thinking for a while, and then she shook her head as if to clear it. She looked up at him again and continued to speak.
“What I am saying, Luke, is that there is nothing about you that would not make me want you. If I didn’t want you, it would have something to do with me.”
If?
She crossed the diner, walked behind the counter until she was standing less than a foot away from him. “Luke?” she said.
“Yeah?” He cleared his throat, which felt unpleasantly dry. She took another step closer until she was almost pressed up against him. He could smell her perfume, her hair, her breath. The last held just a hint of coffee. She put a hand on his chest, right over his heart.
It was beating furiously.
“I want you,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
She chuckled. “Stop saying that! But, yeah.”
His head was swimming, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if he was going to faint. But then he focused on her face; her blue eyes, her parted lips. And he asked her if he might kiss her. He literally phrased it like that: “May I kiss you, Lorelai?”
She nodded, just the slightest movement of her head.
And so he did. He lowered his head to hers and touched his lips softly to hers. Once, twice. The third time he kept them there, applying a little pressure. And she kissed him back, her hand still resting on his chest.
And suddenly he had a sort of out of body experience, where he was looking at the both of them and they were this amazingly perfect picture. Just two people, kissing. Her head tilted backwards a bit, her hand on his chest. Him leaning down, a hand on her hip.
But then she did this little moaning thing and ran her tongue across his lower lip and he obeyed, opening his mouth and touching his tongue to hers. And the kiss intensified until both his hands were on her hips and he was pulling her close to his body, trapping her hand between them. Her other hand reached up, sliding over his arm, cupping his jaw.
It all happened so fast. Suddenly she disengaged from him and took his hand to lead him up the stairs. In his apartment, as he undressed her and looked at her body, he thought to himself, “I do not deserve this.”
When she caugh the look in his eyes, she shook her head and said, “Yes you do.”
So he just smiled at her and joined her on the bed.
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