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*
As usual, the front door was unlocked when Luke crept into the house, a bag of still-hot food in each hand. He couldn’t feel his face; whether that was from the cold, the kid (April, her name was April), or Lorelai’s irrepressible joy, he wasn’t sure. Probably a combination of all three.
He could hear Rory’s high, girlish laughter from the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but smile, despite the wrenching in his stomach. For the first time in months, he was sure he would walk into the house and Lorelai’s smile wouldn’t be cracked and tight around the edges.
At least, not until he gave her the news. Because he had said no secrets, and this would be a hell of a secret to keep. Unthinkable, really.
“Luuuuuke, I can smell the fries! Get in here!” Lorelai called, the happiness still transparent in her voice.
“Yes! Luke! Fries!” Rory exclaimed.
Slowly, he made his way down the hall into the bright warm kitchen, where the two women that had made up much of his life for years were sitting around the new kitchen table, beers and a pint of ice cream open between them. Rory looked happier than he’d seen her in months, smiling widely at him. Lorelai was practically buzzing in her excitement, all teeth and shiny eyes. It looked the way it should always have, Rory there, the three of them together.
And he was going to ruin it all.
“You’re going to make yourselves sick,” he said at last, setting the bags in the middle of the table.
Lorelai scoffed. “If I had a nickel every time you said that—“
“We’d be rich,” Rory piped up, touching Luke’s elbow as he passed on his way to the fridge. “Hey, Luke.”
He couldn’t help slipping an arm across her shoulders, pulling her into a comfortably awkward hug. Her cheek pressed against his middle, and he thought this is being a father. He thought of April; it was like a punch to the gut. “Hey kid. Glad to have you home.”
Lorelai met his gaze then, something odd and tremulous; he felt a deep gnawing in his chest. “Your food’s getting cold,” he muttered after a moment. He patted Rory’s head gently and moved to the fridge for a beer. God knew he needed one.
“God, it’s like manna from heaven,” Rory cooed from behind him. The plastic and Styrofoam crinkled loudly as he opened his beer and took a long drag, still staring at the fridge.
“You haven’t eaten this well in months.”
“It’s true, I’ve been so deprived. Caviar and salmon has nothing on Luke’s burgers.”
Lorelai gasped. “You ate what?”
“I was at a DAR function.”
“But—but, we had a pact!”
“I know.”
“We had two, actually. No functions, no caviar.”
“And I broke both in the same night.”
“Well, when you go for it, you go all out.”
Luke breathed out and turned around. “Listen, I’m going up to bed.”
Both women pouted. Lorelai rose from her seat. “No, Luke, I promise, no more caviar or DAR—“
Rory giggled. “Nice rhyme, Whitman.”
Lorelai waved a hand at her, coming up flush to Luke’s chest. “Seriously, please. I wasn’t just using you for food, stay up with us. We have to teach you the secret Gilmore handshake, so you’re officially part of the family. It’s complicated and involves back handsprings,” she said with a soft smile, her hands light on his chest.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Rory’s smile, even as she turned her head discreetly. “Nah, this is your time. You can teach me the handshake in the morning,” he said, touching her hair gently.
She smiled and kissed him lightly. “Be awake when I come upstairs, Burger Boy,” she murmured, her voice low in his ear.
He kissed her once more, fingering a stray curl before he stepped aside and looked at Rory. “You’ll come to the diner for breakfast in the morning, right?”
Rory glanced over and grinned, her hair falling long and straight across her shoulders and face. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
He nodded, squeezed Lorelai’s hand, and left them to the food and the kitchen. His heart dropped like lead with each step up the stairs.
*
Later, in the cool November dark, as he drifted in a light troubled sleep, the touch of Lorelai’s hand on his cheek brought him back awake.
“My sleepy diner man,” she murmured, sliding next to him in their newly-bought bed. He slipped a hand over her pajama-clad thigh. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He blinked the sleep from his eyes, looking at her pale face in the dim yellow light from the lamp he’d left on earlier. “Starve.”
“You know it’s more than the food,” she said.
Peering at her, he touched her hair gently. “You two all right?”
“You know it,” she said with a wide smile. Her eyes were slightly red and teary still. “God, it’s just—it’s so good, Luke. Everything is finally good.”
He had to tell her. His stomach dropped down to his ankles. “Lorelai—“
She curled her arm over his middle, cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Yeah?”
In the quiet of their bedroom, he breathed out slowly. No secrets. “An eleven year old kid came into the diner a couple days ago. She took some of my hair.”
She huffed, a quiet tired laugh escaping her. “How very Fatal Attraction. They keep getting younger, don’t they?”
He touched the crown of her head, playing with her hair gently. “It was for her science fair. She was doing DNA testing on her potential fathers.”
Lorelai’s breathing stilled against his middle. “Luke—“
“Today, I went to the fair, and she had her results posted,” he said gruffly, his chest tightening. “It said I’m her dad.”
Lorelai sat up, her hair falling across her shoulders as she stared at him. “Oh god, Luke. What—I don’t even—“
“Her mom is Anna Nardini. I dated her about twelve years ago. She was dating a few other guys at the time, I didn’t know—we just didn’t—we didn’t work.”
Looking flabbergasted, Lorelai stared at him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I just—I just—god, I feel like I’ve dropped into General Hospital. You have a kid you didn’t know about?”
He scooted up the headboard, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
She blinked, mouth still open. “For what?”
“I didn’t want to spoil tonight. You were so happy—I just wanted you to be happy,” he said quietly, voice rough with sleep. “But—“
“No secrets, yeah,” she interrupted, brow furrowed. “Okay. Okay.”
He raised a brow. “Okay?”
“So, we’ll figure it out. God, we’re going to be the epitome of the blended family. Jesus, Luke, I can’t—I can’t believe this woman didn’t tell you,” she said, suddenly tart.
He sighed. “I wasn’t exactly on the kid bandwagon back then, or even really recently. You’re the only one I’ve ever thought—“
“I know, babe, and that’s incredibly precious. But it’s still ridiculous,” she said, reaching out to take his hands.
He shrugged, linking her fingers into hers. “I don’t know what to do,” he said finally.
For a moment, they were oddly quiet together. He could hear Rory shifting around downstairs in the kitchen, water running. His chest was weirdly tight, his jaw clenched hard. This was the make or break moment; he wasn’t sure which side this would land on.
Then, Lorelai curled up next to him against the headboard and kissed the corner of his mouth. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” she said quietly, her hand resting over his heart.
He put his arm around her waist, pulling her close for reassurance, for comfort. He wasn’t running, she wasn’t running; they were both still all in. “Tomorrow?”
She tossed her hair, smiling coyly. “After all, tomorrow is another day,” she said, affecting a Southern accent.
He groaned. “Four hours of my life I’ll never get back.”
“You loved it,” she teased, kissing his cheek. “Now turn off the light. We need sleep.”
He reached over for the light and flicked it off as they shifted and rearranged under the bedspread, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, his mouth close to her forehead. He finally began to relax, the whirring in his mind slowing.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said abruptly in the cold darkness, her voice catching.
He breathed out slowly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Me too,” he said gruffly.
Really, how could he not have?
*