Twenty minutes into their talking to each other, and I was totally bored, the book open but hardly regarded. I didn't have my laptop with me, and I wasn't the type to use someone else's without their permission, so I didn't use Gilmore's, scared that I'd breach her privacy. You couldn't have a TV in here? I thought, the idea of some Jeopardy! appealing to me. The comfort of Alex Trebek is like a nice soothing cup of tea to me...
However all I had in there was a radio, and I wasn't up to hearing the blatherings of the Savage Nation, so I lay down on Rory's bed, trying to take myself out of my fearful mood by cuddling her chicken animal like I did my Cheer Bear occasionally (yes, I own a Care Bear, OK! It was a fad but I still love the damned things!), and letting my mind wander back to minutes before, prior to Ms. Gilmore's inconvenient walking in.
I still had my sweater off and looked myself over, Rory's touch
still very fresh in my mind, and how in such a small period of time she
instigated me in such a way I ended up atop of her. I keep thinking of
her using those innocent eyes of her wooing me in closer, her teeth
dragging across my neck in such an agonizing and raw sexual way. How
despite the way we are, in the end all exploration remains academic. I
remember back to just three days ago, after school, Friday evening. Rory
decided to tell Lorelai that she'll meet her at the Gilmore mansion in
Hartford's Blue Hills neighborhood, explaining to me that she kept
clothes changes there just in case and I could drop her at Emily and
Richard's, claiming Franklin work...
Her hand is at my side as I drive looking both ways into Mill Pond Park, a preserve two miles south of Chilton in Newington. It wasn't known as a 'make out park' by any means, and that I was thankful for. It's just a little piece of land near a VA hospital where you don't find many people; no kid wants to play in a park without any playground equipment since the advent of Nintendo. Wonderful for me though, for I'd sit near the Mill Pond in an isolated place, enjoying my lunch on a quiet fall or spring day when life was just throwing me bitter lemons. Since it was close to sunset, no one was out there, and when I pulled up in the parking lot leading to the path leading to the pond, I was glad for it.
"What are we doing here?" she asks, and I quiet her with a soft shush.
"You'll like this." I get out of the car, forcing Rory to leave her books behind as I lock them in the car. I open the trunk, taking out a plaid blanket, and not giving her any clues into my state of mind, she follows me down the thin dirt path I know so well. Her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she struggles with the walk, to be expected on unfamiliar territory. She trusts me; I hold her hand to help her over a medium-sized tree trunk in the path. It's only a quarter mile, but when I arrive into the clearing where the pond and a small field unfold before us, I know this side journey was well worth it.
I watch as her eyes widen and she looks at this pastoral setting, a little country in the middle of the McSuburbs.
"Paris..." she looks around and around. The pond, not really for a mill at all but named so by the early 1900's developer who built this area, is great, a small shore leading into a shallow body of water, in which I dip occasionally on the hot June days at the end of Chilton terms. Routes 9 and 15 pass near, but they're barely heard above the rustling of trees and sounds of the animals. The temperature was in the mid 50's that day, cool but not enough to chill my bones.
"This reminds me of home," she mentions, and I recall the way Stars Hollow's pond is, almost the same layout but a little more rustic and out of the way. But this is still nice...
I find a spot beneath a hulking old oak tree near the pond, and I spread the blanket out beneath the shade. It fits both of us, and I ask if she wants to lay next to me and just watch the sun set in the ripples of the water. Rory is a simple girl, and a sunset appeals to her. I remember once saying to her that I hated the sunset. Mostly the truth, I'm more of a sunrise person because it means the start of a new day, but when the mood and the atmosphere is right and I'm not stressing over a test score, a sunset is a perfect capper.
I lean my head against the tree trunk, as does Rory. I wear my long Chilton overcoat; she's still in her unbuttoned school sweater, not another layer, her blouse of course untucked and socks drooping. I lean my head against her shoulder, my hand around and playing with her collar. We kiss softly a little, talking about little school things and life in general, a mention of Washington's newest scandal. Again, talk only seductive to us.
"Paris?" She asks me a question. "Which anchor would you sleep with if given the change?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like on CNN or NBC, if you had a chance to have sex with someone behind the desk, who would it be?"
"Hmm..." It was an interesting question, I had impure thoughts of those who inform all of us, but I would always keep them to myself and never order them from 1-5 in sexuality and such. I had to think on it a little. "You first, and somehow I'm going to say it's your idol, Amanpour."
"You'd think that, but no. After watching those Paula Zahn ads with the zip sound, it sounds appealing."
"Zahn? You can't be serious, she's the journalistic equivalent of a Pop Tart!"
"But she is a little bit sexy."
"Pretty much all she has. Thank God you didn't say Barbara Walters." I laughed at the very idea of that.
"How about Katie Couric?" I cringe and shake my head furiously. "Come on, I know we've seen way more of her than we ever did and she's like a stewardess, but her legs, they're nice."
"She has nothing upstairs--"
"But plenty downstairs," she says without shame. "I know I should mention a few guys, Lester Holt, Bill Hemmer, Bob Woodruff over on ABC, they're very bright, young and sexy."
"Anderson Cooper all the way for me," I admit. "Gotta have old-school richie solidarity, part of the Vanderbilt clan. He sure knows how to make a report look very good; I admit my sexual maturity was started with late night viewings of 'World News Now'."
"And female?" I don't want to admit, but scared she'd laugh at me, I warn her my choices are unconventional.
"I sort of kind of have a crush on Candy Crowley. Yeah, she's no Liz Vargas, but she goes after the story pretty well, she'd be great to hear a few campaign trail stories about. As for shameless...Soledad O'Brien. Just a great voice, a nice face, beautiful eyes, any network's lucky enough to have her."
"It's the tan, isn't it?" She brushes a kiss along the side of my face, and I nod, moving my hand along her neck, trying to work at her school tie. "Perhaps a certain ideal you've taken with you and found within me."
"That could be it." I clasp at the button holding the tie together, then unsnap it, my fingers playing with Rory seductively. She groans as I brush up her neck, and work the collar button of her blouse open. We work ourselves into a laying position on the blanket, and we work ourselves into romance, kissing and just taking in the atmosphere of that small public park. We end up spending a half-hour in that position, just talking about so small things, my hands playing at her waist, hers at mine. I feel great, sharing a secret spot with Rory I've never divulged to anybody else. It's unbelievable how much I'm a hopeless romantic in her sights, when I think of myself as the extreme opposite outside of her proximity.
We have to force ourselves to pull away when my cell phone alarm vibrates, signifying 5 o'clock. The sky is a dark blue, and night is starting to peek. We get up from the wrinkled blanket, our skirts covered with a slight layer of dirt, and I feel like I have to come here much more often. Rory looks at me, seemingly lovesick, both of us still shy about anything too public.
"Someday, we'll have to go to the pond in my town, by the bridge," she said pensively. "Water has a calming and tranquil effect, and sitting by it here was so relaxing." She straightens her sweater, and slides her hand into mine as I fold the blanket up.
"I know," I agree. It's certainly too cold for a swim, but just watching the water with her was something that gave me a sense of relaxation. We made our way back to the front gate of the park, getting there just as the last remnants of day had passed. The ride to the Gilmore mansion continued on that track; things that relaxed us. She mentioned of course her love of a nice book, sitting alone at parties, a nice soothing bubble bath. I laughed when she mentioned that, because that was one of my best stress relievers too.
She had a mischievous look on her face, and I knew she was ready to say something not Rory-like. I tried to stop her, but it came out anyways.
"You did say that your bathtub in your private bathroom seated two, correct?" I nodded automatically, and as I drove, I had to keep my mind off her fingers at the hem of my skirt. "One day, I might just have to see that, and perhaps test it out." Hearing this from Gilmore was such a surprise, but somehow I kept my heart rate in control, discussing the interest in quilting and sewing that I had. A long tradition in the Gellar family, it's about the only thing I'll admit appeals to me in homemaking. We have a long tradition of both arts, along with knitting, however Sharon has discouraged me from taking them up, calling them 'antiquated' hobbies. It disappoints me, and I have to make do with watching my Gellar relatives create wonderful things from yarn and fabric.
"You should talk to my mother, she loves all that stuff," Rory reminds me. "Without her, I might've attended kindergarten in the nude."
"I remember the dress, Winter Formal. It certainly looked beautiful on you, brought out your eyes," I offhand, surprising even myself. "She did a great job on it, you could tell she spent hours crafting it."
"I spent nine hours being fitted for it," she noted. "Your mother picked that gown you wore, didn't she?"
Groaning, I recalled how hideous it looked. "I felt like someone skinned Kermit the Frog and made me wear his skin." She laughed out loud and shrieked at how hilarious my comparison was.
"Still, you looked nice, that's the first time I found out what you usually hide." Her eyes drifted towards my chest. "I have to admit I was 100 straight at the time and had zero thought of anything involving you, but I was jealous of you, how you looked."
"Really?"
"How could you not, you looked classy and beautiful, I was glad for your date. At least until I found out you shared blood, then it was a mix of 'Oh God', 'No don't go there mind!' and 'Poor Paris'."
"And back then I thought it was the end of my world that I had to be escorted by my cousin." We pulled into the gate of the Gilmore house, and I drove around to the circular driveway at the front entrance. "Looking back, it was funny, but I care not to repeat that experience again with any of my family."
"God willing, you won't have to ever again." We both got out of the car, since after I went to the door with her Saturday night, it had become habit to accompany her to the door, whichever it was, before I leave, because she thought it was nice. I followed her to the door, and she rang the bell.
"So 9:30pm tonight on MSN?" We had been mixing various messaging services lately as we talked online because Madeline and Louise's conversations were overtaking at one time or another, and both of us didn't want to be dragged into a private chat with them.
"It's a date." The door opened at that time, and behind it was Emily, her grandmother. The regal woman was smiling at the both of us, surprised to see Rory this early.
"Why Rory, hello!" She exclaimed. "Paris, how are you, it's a surprise to see you here."
"Sorry to come early Grandma, we had paper work and I thought it pointless to go south to put on something else and come back north when I have clothes here. I'll just meet Mom here, if that's OK with you."
"Just fine for me, your grandfather wanted to give you a few new books to read." She brought her look towards me. "Paris, how are you?"
"Well Mrs. Gilmore," I responded. "Rory's a real firecracker on the Franklin lately, very impressive. It's amazing how much time she spends in the newsroom. She stays so long I give her rides home and to school now, and she helps me with a lot of things."
"That's wonderful, it's good that you two are such great friends." We sent a secret look at each other, the oddity that we were really 'great friends' hopefully remaining a secret to her. "Are you staying?"
"I'm afraid I can't," I said sadly. "Mother has me working a DCW event this weekend and I have to go through the plans, you know how it is."
"Of course," she groaned with hidden disdain, I knew how Emily as a DAR'er loathed the competitive new direction of DCW. "I wouldn't want to keep you from that."
"I actually don't want to do it, but you know Sharon, dedicated." I laughed shyly. Rory pulled at the cuff of my jacket, giving me a 'wrap it up' signal. "So dedicated if I'm not home at six she'll have my head."
"I should let you go then, good luck this weekend," Emily said as her and Rory went in the house. "Maybe I'll see you around more often now that you and Rory are so close."
"I'm sure you will." I waved at Rory. "Have a good weekend Gilmore, don't forget to brainstorm this weekend, those weddings should give you plenty of time." She said goodbye to me, and the door shut as I turned around to go back to my car.
Thinking about Friday evening, I think of how well things have gone...maybe a little too well. I mean without Ms. Gilmore interrupting, I don't know if I would've been able to stay in control of my modesty. I daydream more about that for awhile, trying to think of how in just the matter of a few weeks I've gone from looking at her from afar, to so close we've almost brought ourselves into very close intimacy. I hold off at an outright dream about what may have happened, thinking it bad form to think of my girlfriend in a naughty way on her own bed. The book lay at my side, still unread.
After a few more minutes in deep thought, I looked at the clock radio one more time, which now read 8:02pm, meaning that Rory had been talking to her mother for at least forty minutes since we were discovered. I felt very uneasy, keeping one eye on the clock and the other on the opened page in the book, reading one passage over and over again, just wanting to get this over with. I hadn't heard any banging or anything odd, something that would cause some kind of alarm between the two. Still, until Lorelai entered the bedroom, I was in limbo. For all I knew she had just told Rory to pack her bags for Boston, that she was moving in with Christopher and Sherrie because she wouldn't want me anywhere near her.
It had been a long time since I was sent to the corner for doing something wrong, and being stuck in that 12'x9' space (yes, I counted the ceiling tiles and made a measurement that way; remember, I was bored) for the last hour, I kept putting down the book and walking around the room, holding back so much to go through Rory's things. I saw the blue RN notebook still sitting on the desk, the book that held her secret longing for me for so long. Then I looked at the pictures of her, Ms. Gilmore, and Ms. Gilmore's friend, her chief chef at the Independence, Sue Lee, Selena...I forget her name...oh yeah, Sookie. 'Wacky small-town residentspeak' for Susan. In those pictures was the Rory that everyone knew, the one happy with Dean and willing to settle for less. That brunette who regarded me as a pest and hadn't even put any kind of tangible picture on her desk yet at all of us together, not that we've had the opportunity to pose for a picture as a happy couple yet, I thought the pic that Kentucky boy snapped was the only happy one of us.
The guilt weighed down as I looked at pictures on the other side of the desktop with her true best friend, Lane. To say she wouldn't be happy with the idea of her buddy kissing another girl would probably be an understatement, considering her mother's strict Christian upbringing of her. Not that it's important, the girl will probably kick my ass the moment she finds out because I've been more intimate with her friend than ever expected. This town looked pretty, but it was going to suck stepping out and telling everyone that the both of us were more than buddies.
"Paris?" the older voice asked. I folded page 564 into 566 (no way my $100 personalized gold bookmark is going to remind me where I left off in this Donner Party of a book), and shut the heavy volume closed.
"I'm fine, you can come in Ms. Gilmore." I sucked up all that I had, preparing for a line of rebukes, accusations and screaming matches to come. The Other Mother was about to give me The Talk, and hopefully it wouldn't end with 'I don't want you to see her again, please leave.'
She opened the door, finding me sitting on the bed, looking down at my fingers, scared to establish eye contact with this woman who was Rory's age halved. I still can't believe that the girl I had fallen for was from someone so young.
"Hello again Bareshirt Contessa," she tried to joke, a jab at the state she caught me in only an hour before startling me and throwing me off-track. I narrowed my eyes towards her, very annoyed at the reference.
"Ms. Gilmore," I warned, "I never meant to do that."
"Paris, I'm making fun of you," she pointed out. "Just laugh and go along with it." She slid up next to me and we started the heavy talking. "And thanks for aging me twenty years with the matriarchal Ms. Gilmore greeting."
"I have to have manners," I explained to remind of why I didn't go first-name with her. "So I can't just up and call you Lorelai."
"But I don't mind it," she said. "Better Lorelai than 'She who had your girlfriend at sixteen.'"
Was she going to take any of this seriously? I needed her to just acknowledge how she felt about me wanting her daughter unless she was going to Phyllis Diller her way through this talk.
"Look, do you have a point?" I said, very annoyed. "I've been stuck in here for the last hour waiting for you to talk to me, and frankly you think this is a big joke."
Finally she straightened out. "This isn't a joke to me, I'm trying to deal with the fact that I walked in on all of this." Her voice wavered a little. "I'm still not believing that I come home from work, open the door, and walk in on the two of you the way you were. I mean, I walked in on her and Dean a few times last year, but I could trust him to never take off his shirt or bring his hands below the waistline. I at least had warning about them, a few hours only, but still, quite a bit of notice. Then I see you and Rory together and you're doing a hell of a lot more than Dean ever did."
"What do you want me to say, I didn't mean to do it?" I wrung my hands, trying to will myself through an answer. "Look, if you want me to leave right now, I will, no questions asked. Far be it from me to dissolve your perfect world so suddenly."
"Paris, don't--" She moved towards in front of my path to stop me.
"Ms. Gilmore, I have not taken advantage of your daughter by any means, we're going slow, very slow, Ice Age slow. I know how scared you are of her going too fast into things, and I'm scared to do that before we've gotten to know each other. Not like you're ever going to let us get to that point anyways."
"Hey," she said, taking offense. "Don't be assuming things."
"I read people Ms. Gilmore, and I know the first thought in your mind was 'Oh God, look, it's my daughter and her worst enemy together.' Then you probably thought if she was going to experiment with girls that she could've picked someone better and less neurotic than me, like Louise or Summer, or a girl who's prettier than me."
"I never thought of that at all--" I continued on the defensive.
"Come on, I know you were just waiting for this moment Ms. Gilmore, you could finally rescue your daughter from the Big Mean Classmate and have all the proof you needed for that reasoning." I felt my eyes tighten, tears threatening. "You don't think Rory confides in me, that I know you don't exactly think of me in the best light? I exposed you and Mr. Medina, I've made your daughter cry on so many occasions, I bitched about your wonderful dinner last year. Get real ma'am, I'm a realist, and I know I'm the last girl you'd ever want to see Ror with, and I know you talk about me all the time as crazy." I know, I was irrational, but I was in huge panic that was turning into an attack quite quickly, only I would amplify an argument this way.
I watched as Lorelai sat back down on the bed as I lay down on it, trying to stay sane and my blood flowing just in case I talked myself into a fainting spell. She never usually had to deal with something so life-changing, I was sure, her biggest quandary so far in Rory's life going for the Chilton loan and re-establishing her life in Hartford with Richard and Emily.
"You're certainly ready for battle, aren't you?" she commented calmly, holding back anger I thought she would have. "Paris, please, don't talk like you're girding yourself with a debate, just talk to me, woman-to-woman."
"How can I do that?" I asked. "I'm going to say the wrong thing and that's just going to make things worse."
"You won't, do you really think that little of yourself?" she asked. "When I was talking with Rory a few minutes ago, she was telling me about the strong and driven woman she wants to get to know more, not this sullen self-pitying girl who makes Fiona Apple look like Amanda Bynes." She sighed and hesitated. "I was ready for a nice deep talk with you about your intentions with Rory, all this that's been lain on me like a ton of bricks so I can understand more why this is all happening."
Shaking my head, I tried to tell her that I wasn't trying to crawl into a hole and hide. "I...I just can't explain things well, and the way you just went off on me, throwing an accusation that I'm trying to use the girlfriend card to get the V slot, it hurts me. You think I'd ever be that low? Excuse me if I'm offended at that assertion."
"You're excused," she said. "Now come on here, talk to me. Make me understand how someone like you managed to push the waterboy out of my daughter's thoughts."
"Waterboy?"
"My alias for Dean, for he changed the water bottle before what I've learned three weeks ago was Rory pushing off to the side and going full tilt for you."
"Oh, right." I laughed, thinking that Lorelai thought very little of him that all he was good for was for keeping her hydrated. "I'm...I'm...auuggh, sorry, I'm not usually at a loss for words, either English or Portuguese. I mean you never think until it's too late that you're...what's the term I'm looking for here--"
"Being walked in on?" Lorelai finished. "God, do I know how that feels, and seeing you tonight, it just reminded me of Rory's dad and I being walked in on by Emily in almost the same exact position; very awkward. I mean she was just lost for words and the only thing she could say is 'Lorelai,'" she imitated the older woman's haughty tone, "'Please come downstairs as soon as possible, and Christopher I think it's time for you to go.' To say I was mortified would be like saying Hurricane Andrew was just a little rainstorm."
"We didn't mean for you to find out this way," I said still shy and scared to death. "It was meant to be a lot more...clothed."
"At least I found out first this time, unlike when Mrs. Kim let me know about Dean and Rory at Doose's from Lane." She nervously laughed, telling me that the Christian woman wasn't pleased to hear about the love life of her daughter's best friend. "Unlike Mrs. Kim however, I heard Rory's side of the story first this time before it could be mashed up into something else."
"Do you believe her side?" I asked, trying to make sure I was going into a good talk or a bad talk.
"Well, she left a few holes for you to fill in, so I need some help here." It was strange seeing Ms. Gilmore only talking at a slow calming speed. "I've had my suspicions for the last few weeks to be honest with you. One day you show nothing but disdain for Rory, and the next when she tells you to jump, you go beyond that and leap."
"H-how did you know?" I stumbled out, trying to think of how transparent my excuses might have been to the elder Gilmore.
"Let's see here, you come in through the window on a Sunday morning to apologize for something that I could tell was lame, and I was totally right about that, no one ever has a late-night apology over journalistic ethics. Mistaken body compliments seems to be more of the reason."
Asking her to explain more, she cleared up her worldview of the entire 'flat' controversy. "Considering she spent twenty minutes yapping on and on about the conflict as we went to dinner at the grandparents before I pointed out that she sounded like she was pissed off about Dean, that was a good sign. Then she clams up the rest of the night and through the weekend until after you two wake up on Sunday morning, probably not to say something that might reveal facts she doesn't want me to know."
"But it was a stupid argument--" I tried to claim.
"To you it was a reality check that she was noticing this, because the way you are shows that you don't know how to take 'you're beautiful' as well as I could."
She then pointed out the true warning bell that screamed out to her that there was more to us than met the eye, Rory and Dean's end, a hasty retreat over her being saved by Jess from the sprinklers.
"She would've wasted pounds of oxygen before to defend the fact she still loved Dean. But she sees you in the distance and thinks that it's time for a change, that this is the window she needs to make a move on you after not having an excuse to dump him before. Thus Rory leaves him and after winning the marathon, you finally admit under pressure, and she's happy. There's just all these things I've been noticing and been ready to bring up over the last few weeks, and the fact you two were attracted to each other was not breaking news when I entered this room; to me it was a developing story."
That made an impression on me, while being surprising all the same that the signs were clear I was more than friends with Rory. I thought we were very secretive, but somehow, Lorelai managed to read between the lines so well I didn't even know we were sitting ducks and she was waiting all these weeks for confirmation of the nag she had.
Lorelai continues on. "The rides in the morning were the first clue. You're smart and thrifty, even I could see that, and I couldn't understand why you were making two trips down here a day when Rory can get on the bus and make it to school in the same amount of time. Then I remember that I was a teenager once, and guess how Rory's father lured me in?"
I think for a bit, and it comes to me in a quick flash. "Pulled up in his Corvette, called you beautiful and told you to hop in?"
She smirked at me, and the talk started lightening up. "You really do have a good lover's mind, he was my ride to school from then on." She moved a little closer and told me some of the other signs. "Rory was more distracted after the marathon too, a little more secretive and withdrawn, like she was holding something back. She ate a little less at the diner, looked much more often at her phone, and I kept thinking 'does she miss Dean'? You have her go to your mansion and nothing curious spins me, but then..." she stopped, trying to wring something out. "...she comes home, not with you, but with your chauffeur in the limo. From her voice and the way she walked, it seemed like she enjoyed the study session, if not for going over the facts she needed again, for the refreshments." She smirked at me and shook her head. "Care to explain that?"
I sighed, sucked up my pride and admitted that we shared that bottle of wine in celebration of our coming together, thus her going with Henrico instead of us driving home. She was happy that I didn't drive her home, but she was hopeful that it wouldn't happen again. I reassured her that it was a one time thing, and that the alcohol usage would stick to holidays and special occasions, which I noted this was.
She continued noting those clues which lead her to knowing that I wasn't just being more friendly with Rory, like the fewer times she got to talk to Rory during breakfast because we were too buried in our own conversation as I sipped my wintergreen tea, an aborted game of 1-2-3 one day outside of Doose's Market because Rory wasn't in the mood to find out that her #3 would be a redheaded bombshell tourist from Maryland instead of the square-jawed hunk from Albany, the avoidance of any mention of Rory finding another guy when they would talk. It set up a pattern that led to Lorelai keeping an eye on her daughter all weekend through the double weddings as she tracked our text-tag conversations at any time Rory could flee from the ceremonies.
"I just checked my cell phone bill online this afternoon at work, which you might note, Rory's phone is under that account." It was then she noted something important. "Rory had been averaging twenty text messages and fifty calls a month to Dean. Now last month she gave him only fifteen calls and four text messages, that's a huge reduction, don't you think?" I nodded at her math, wondering what she was alluding to.
"Meanwhile messages for or from you, which only averaged two in the months before, are now at forty-five, most of those in the last two weeks. And calls...at least every day and every night you've made a call. Thankfully we're on a bundle which includes a lot of messages and minutes, but somehow the math adds up that no matter what you and my daughter could've done to hide from me, I would've eventually found out, be it through my bills or finding out the way I did."
I directed a funny look her way, the lie built up through the last few weeks seeming that much more porous through what she mentioned. I knew there was probably one more sign that told her all that she needed to know.
"You must have thought something else was amiss when I used the Porsche to pick Rory up." She nodded and told me of her theories before Rory confirmed the date.
"At first I figured you two were using the Wesson cover as a night to go out on the town, paint it red, relax as you hit on guys 80 IQ points dumber than you. I would've definitely been fine with you two just going out cruising, both you and Rory spend so much time between the spines of a book that a wild night out was just fine, and I knew you were covering something up, I just wasn't going to say anything unless I got called up for an extradition hearing." She smirked at her own nervous joke, then stated her conclusion. "I just didn't know that there were no guys coming into play, period."
I defended the reason I went all out for the date. "I wanted her to feel special, she didn't seem to get that from Dean and I've heard her trying to bluff off all the 'How are you two lovebirds' questions from Louise at lunch, it's like she was ashamed of going out with him because he treated her so...so..." I tried looking for the word, thinking about when I saw those two together. It came to me, but in a phrase instead. "Like he took her for granted. He gives her a cheap bracelet and occasionally throws an expensive trinket her way, listens just enough to get her the right gift, and does just enough to show how much he wants her. Just enough." I wring my hands, feeling all I want for Rory unhinged. "Rory isn't a 'just enough' kind of girl, why would Dean get such a wonderful girl such as her and just regard her like he did? I would spend my last dime to impress her and here he is with his budget cakes and cheap dates, and the car...the car! When Rory said that she was shocked her grandfather found it unsafe, I didn't blame him because that thing looked put together with duct tape, poor-quality welds and a shoddy exhaust system that wouldn't get through the first step of emissions. I just wanted to give her a good time--" I stop as I realize I've gone way beyond the answer I had in mind; I was now in an unfocused ramble telling Rory's mom that from afar, I worshiped the ground she walked on and couldn't stand that Caveman wasn't treating her in an acceptable matter, at least to my standards.
I look back down, and try to minimize what I just said by going back into my hidden cocoon. "I'm sorry, OK Ms. Gilmore? I don't think you'd understand how it feels to know the person you like, really deep, deep down is in your grasp, and you're--"
"Becoming a rambling wreck?" she interrupted. She shook her head and stopped me in my tracks. "I just dealt with one in the living room, and I'm just beginning to truly understand what's been going on between the two of you." Lorelai looked at me, trying to figure out why on earth Rory was so infatuated with me. Weird, because I still can't fathom that Rory likes me so much myself.
"They certainly write up a chapter about this in the Mother's Encyclopedia," I off-handed. "I mean when I'm with her it just seems so right, like I'm not who I usually am, scared that 96 equals a failure in the eyes of my mother and Harvard admissions. We've had screwups aplenty, but yet we bounce back stronger than before."
"Maybe that's just your conscience nagging you that this is right," Lorelai surmised. "Rory is a good kid, but in turn she has the Gilmore gene of stubbornness that I know I have and Emily has a mutated form of it. That's why she probably keeps with you hon, she thinks there's something in there that I can't see, and..." She looked at me straight-eyed. "She makes good decisions, takes all the time in the world to make sure what she's doing is right. It's unconventional, but for a girl like her, it seems to work."
I then asked if Rory mentioned the pro/con list where I found out her true feelings for me; Lorelai seemed to take this as a piece of new information that was just breaking to her.
"No way!" Where I thought her feeling was going that of being angry at being denied certain information, instead she was excited about it. "A pro/con list?"
I nodded, unsure now if I should've divulged the RN notebook. "It's how I learned she liked me. More of the final clue actually."
"So cerebral my daughter, she told me about the long plan she had to draw you closer, but I didn't expect the payoff to be so, dull. Here I was thinking fireworks and parade music, but it's just so Rory instead." Laughing at the way I was taken to Rory, the older woman still couldn't believe the way we came together, along with the mere fact we had two full weeks logged without a major international incident.
She was giving me a look, telling me that she wanted to read the RN notebook, somehow just not for parental concern, but for blackmail material. Rory would kill me for sure if I ever showed her mom this notebook because though without the hearts and unicorn drawing of most proof of crush admission, the way she talked about me in several aspects was kind of in the way you never share with any authority figure, ever.
"I'm not telling you where it is," I firmly stated.
"Aww, please Paris?" Lorelai pouts and I try to avoid her trying to get to me. I shook my head firmly and stood my ground.
"We have a right to have a few secrets, as Rory did with Dean."
"There's no way to bribe you? Not with a Franklin story of some kind involving this town? How about macaroni and cheese, Rory said you love the stuff--"
I smirked. "My lips are sealed."
"Damn you." The confrontation I was expecting to happen, well, it wasn't coming, because she was humored by me more than thinking of us as the worst thing in the world. "I guess I can live without the behind the scenes dirt, for now."
I asked to make sure that indeed, all was well. "Wait, does this mean...that, that you're OK with us? Us in a together kind of sense?"
"Maybe," she hinted softly. "Talking to Rory, talking to you, it seems like there's a connection here that no grounding or restrictions could break. Your IQs are even, you respect adults and authority figures, as far as I know you have no felonies, and despite your surface grouchiness, you're a good human being. Everything I'd look for in the perfect mate in my daughter, minus one part and plus two others, emphasis on plus." With a smirk I found myself annoyed at her continued teasing about my sudden undress.
"Ms. Gilmore," I growled, rolling my eyes, though trying to hold back some mirth at her hidden bust compliment.
Lorelai was non-chalant about it. "Hey, if you got 'em, flaunt 'em."
"Oy, please, not another joke." I brought a couple of fingers to my temples, trying to deal with the suddenness of this all. "Look, I know that I didn't want this at first when the feelings started to come, I wanted to run far away from them because I'm not supposed to think about her like that. But I just can't connect with anyone else so close, in such an intimate way, and she understands me more. The kissing and cuddling, a nice bonus, yes. But with Rory, I feel safe and liked for what I am, not what everyone expects me to be. It's different to be with her, it's not like a guy where you constantly have to find a comfortable topic. Anything with Rory," I smile, "is something she wants to talk about. That she even regards me as a friend is wonderful. But as the girl she likes..." I wander off, feeling afraid that Lorelai might think it too much to describe her daughter the way that I am. "I still can't believe it."
"I can't either," Lorelai repeats. "Being in that living room, next to Rory as she went on about how her 'girlfriend' was, it was just so jarring, at every opportunity I wanted to jump in and say 'don't you mean boyfriend?'. But I couldn't, because that girlfriend is you, and she seems like she's going to devote all she can to the idea of a you two. I mean when she was talking about Dean, she wasn't at the point of describing the romanticism of a date, the simple gestures you show to say I care, how this all built up so slowly through the summer until she realized that she wanted something else." The older woman looked at me and smiled, nervously playing with her hands and still trying to wrap her mind around this shock.
"I guess I should be thankful that she didn't repeat my mistake," which she quickly disclaimed like she always did, "the best mistake of my life, but still. It's not as if I could ever know things would be like this, there's no parental crystal ball and I don't have that Raven girl's psychic vision thing going on. And it's not as if you're Pinky Tuscadero, ready to corrupt her away from her life as she knows it. You're a smart, well-raised, good read and nice girl, I should be thankful that Rory is with someone like you, a perfect match for her."
"Well, not so perfect," I said. "I have a short fuse and somehow I make your relationship with Emily look happy in comparison to my mother." Rory had admitted sharing some specific details of my home life with Ms. Gilmore, but not enough that she knew every single thing about me.
Laughing, I was surprised to hear Lorelai start talking about Sharon. "You know, I always clash with her at the parent meetings, she's so stubborn and against anything that might push Chilton into the 21st century. I remember a few months ago the motion for a PowerBook for every student that eventually passed? Apple was going to pay for everything, yet here's your mother, against the entire deal. She called Charleston a corporate shill and said he just dropped an opening for pedophiles and terrorists to get at the students."
"What?" I was shocked, Sharon never talked about parent meetings, and if she did it was usually to complain about the dress of the 'new money' parents. "Why would she be against it?"
"I don't know, she's just...I don't know." Thinking she had to stop in front of me, Lorelai tried to reel back. "I don't mean to say anything bad about her, I know--"
"Ms. Gilmore, it's OK, I understand how it looks, and you're right, she's not the best cheerleader for my life, I'm just learning to admit that." I assured her nothing she said would get back to her. "I was thankful the computer motion got through, Miss Peters helped write out the plan after your daughter noticed one of the scholarship students having problems getting lab time since she had nothing to use at home to write a paper. She definitely came up with a great plan, and a persuasive letter that helped Apple make the offer."
"Really?" She smiled, and I nodded.
"Your daughter doesn't think for herself, she sees the big picture of everything and goes from there, the only selfish thing she does around me is ask for a little bit more column space. There are so many things I like about her, and she knows where she came from. That's why I crave your approval, and want your trust, because without it, I might as well be adrift, and I don't want you mad at me." I felt myself compromising for the sake of Ms. Gilmore was the best thing to do, no matter her terms.
Thankfully her laissez-faire parenting style worked in my favor, because after a few more minutes of talking about what made us come together and our plans for coming out, she thought for a bit about the rules she wanted me to live under as I dated her daughter. She didn't give me a full endorsement; in other words, I'm now under a 'Gilmore dating probationary period', where Lorelai would be judge, jury, and executioner, and any violation of her rules, there would be consequences.
"First of all, she's not going in your Porsche anymore," she stated.
"I'm a safe--"
"Driver, yes, but after last week, she will not go in your Porsche. I know she drove it," she shook her head and smiled. "She got it out of her system, and now she goes back in your sane Jaguar from now on."
"Fine." I half-smiled and listened to her other regulations.
"She will keep her grades up, and you will not exchange any answers or write reports similar to hers. It's hard enough you two are together, but being 1-2 at Chilton will raise some eyebrows. Third, curfew is now hard at 9:45pm school nights, 11 on weekends, my darling daughter needs sleep."
On and on she went, giving me some more rules, including paying 50 of treat and rental costs on Gilmore movie nights if I was over, a call before I came over on the weekends, that Rory's bedroom door would stay open from now on as long as I was over here, and I was to eat dinner with them here at the house once a week and catch her up on our lives, and I would have to pass any dating plan by her.
A couple more rules would be listed, as Lorelai made it clear that if I slept over I could sleep in Rory's room, but only in a sleeping bag at her bedside, and that hands were to be kept at waist level when we were near each other in the house.
"Finally," she clarified, "You break her heart Paris, I will break your kneecaps." Taken aback by her serious tone of voice, I asked if she was serious.
"Damn right I'm serious blondie, you've just taken on Stars Hollow's #1 citizen as your girlfriend, this town protects her like the Palace Guard protects the Queen. I don't expect either of you to come out right away, both Miss Patty and I will give you a huge security blanket to build up your relationship without town interference." I never saw Ms. Gilmore this serious before, except when she searched wildly for Madeline and Louise in the New York apartment building when they went off during the concert. It really got to me though, how she was protective over Rory. "However, this town is porous when it comes to gossip and seeing anything that looks funny, trust me when I say you must be on guard at all times. They're already watching you like a hawk, ready to jump on you if something doesn't look right. I will accept everything in time, but only, if you accept my rules. I don't ever want to carry out my last rule, I really don't." She put a hand to my back and rubbed my hair. "You're a good kid, and Rory is absolutely enchanted with you. I really want to accept this, but in turn Paris, you need to help your cause, make it clear to me that you're doing this for the right reasons."
"Ms. Gilmore," I said softly, "I know this is right. I never have doubts about things, and that includes Rory." Looking at my hands, I ran one of them along the quilt and afghan atop Rory's bed. My thoughts wandered to her, wherever she was.
"Where is she?" I asked, because it seemed strange for her to not be here.
"I had her run out to Joe's for the pizza I was getting for all of us; no cheese, right?"
"Of course," I responded. "I guess this means, you're letting me stay?"
Lorelai nodded, and slid her hand down my back. "Why would I have you leave?"
"I don't know..."
She rubbed my back, trying to calm my nerves. "You're my daughter's friend, one who happens to have been mothered by a woman who makes mine a Nobel Peace Prize candidate by comparison. I can't stop you two from seeing each other, I know that, and I won't, because the way she talked about you, it seems like you've had a hard life so far. Not Burning Bed awful, but still, I can relate to you so much." She went on to theorize that she saw parallels in me, the way I didn't want to stay within the society template, my quietness and the way I went on with my life that though not an exact match with her teenage years, was a stark contrast. I'm leading more of a quiet rebellion against her, while Lorelai against Emily wasn't just burning bridges, as the ESPN president quoted about Keith Olbermann's job status once, she napalmed them.
"I just want Rory to be happy," she concluded, "and if that's you who's giving her the happiness, why not? You're perfect, just a girl, that's all."
I hated to bring up the most obvious line ever in the history of 'romancing the product of a teenage mother' couplings, but the lead-in was too perfect to not broach it.
"By the way, I was telling the truth earlier when you thought we were on the fast track to having sex Ms. Gilmore, I'm going to take things at her speed, her way. I know you're thinking that just because I can't get her pregnant that I'll take advantage of that, but I'll hold off, for her--"
Surprisingly, Lorelai cut into my monologue and reined me in, giving me a check into reality and what poetic imagery can do to mess up the mind.
"Paris, I hate to break it to you, but relationships don't have rules or boundaries, so I don't want you to make promises, just let me trust you. You're both going to do things you didn't expect, do things that you think are out of your character, and get distracted at the wrong times because you're all moony for each other. I'm talking from experience; I didn't go into my relationship with Rory's father thinking I'd do what I did and end up with her, but before I knew it, the promises I made at the start to not go too deep didn't mean much."
"So you're saying be careful, but just let things take us where they might." I looked at Lorelai's mother, and though her expression didn't read that she was totally accepting of me as of yet, I was off to a fine start with her.
"You've found the wisdom, oh young one," she intoned. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
"Probably might help if I wear a bra here from now on, right?" I shook my head, but after all of this, self-depreciation made things much easier on me, it's good to joke about myself from time to time.
"A lot of help, geeze, don't you need a license for those things?" I blushed, and we continued to talk things over for the next ten minutes, moving into the living room as Ms. Gilmore got ready for dinner and the massive amounts of pizza to be had.
"No, it's OK, I'll go after I eat," I tried to say, thinking that she didn't want my company. "You probably have to catch up with Rory, and I don't want to be in the way..."
"Paris, please stay," she pleaded. "I'm not mad at you, and I'm not mad at her, really."
"It's fine, don't worry about it..." I frowned as I saw that Ms. Gilmore thought it sad that I wasn't staying, her eyes reflecting that she wanted to get to know me more than just the intense girl who's trying to capture her daughter's heart. Here I was, a fun night laid out in front of me, and I was being what I think they call a 'buzzkiller' because I didn't want to stay. She pointed out my mother's friends and their lack of fun, calling them the 'Beardstown Ladies' and making fun of them in a way that was dead-on and made me laugh.
"I suppose she'd probably get over it and have fun with her ladies," I surmised.
"Besides, I have the perfect movie for you, Rory, and your newfound gaiety..." she smiled as she decided not to reveal this information, but from Ror's description of her first date night with Dean, I had a guess.
"Willie Wonka?" I couldn't stand that movie in actuality because it was Madeline's favorite movie, used for every sleepover at her and Louise's from five on. Those weird short people with green hair were fixtures in my younger years nightmares, and the day her tape finally broke five years ago was on of the best days I ever had.
Too bad two years later, she found it again on DVD at Tower. Damn you, digital age!
Lorelai thankfully shook her head. "Actually, something a little bit more appropriate, and it's perfectly cheesy, horrible, awful, and guaranteed to make you either laugh out loud, or cringe. Trust me, you're gonna like this one."
"Not the English Patient, I assume."
She shook her head. "Do I look like I could sit through that for three hours?"
"Probably not." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, which startled me out of my skin. "What on earth--"
She sprang up out of her seat and got giddy. "I think Rory needs help with the pizza." I settled down a little. "Why don't you help her out?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, it's time for you dear, to get to work and grovel down for my acceptance." She sat back down on the couch and propped her legs onto the coffee table. "Come on, up, up, up, we're both hungry!"
"Fine." I shook my head, and prepared to face this 'hard work' I would have to do. At least through this hour with Ms. Gilmore I learned that she'll be tolerant with us and accepting. She's not quite at the point of wearing rainbow shirts and putting a 'proud mother of a lesbian' bumper sticker on the Jeep, but I just need her to know I intend to treat her daughter well, and hope that she fully accepts us, in time. Rory is a wonderful girl with a strong mother, and I need Ms. Gilmore in my corner if I'm going to be with Rory full-tilt.
Smiling and relived that nothing bad came out of our talk, I walked into the foyer, and feeling totally relaxed, opened the door for Rory, who was holding three medium pizzas in her hands tightly, boxes stacked atop each of other. She was looking down at them, but instead of handing off the boxes to me...she looked like she had something planned.
Oh brother, did she ever have a plan.
"I have three pizzas here for a Paris Gellar, one works, one sausage-mushroom-pepperoni, one with extra sauce, no cheese. Are you Paris?"
"Of course I am, what are you doing--" At this point, I wasn't on to her plan.
"That's $21.63, plus tip. Are you paying with cash, or a check?" She sounded just like a pizza delivery girl.
Flabbergasted, I felt like she somehow lost all her brain cells on the way back from Joe's. "Uh, you just bought all of that, I don't have to pay you anything."
"You expected a free pizza?" She scoffs in indignation. "Do you have any money?"
"I'm not paying for a pizza you already bought," I argued back.
"They just made this pizza, I'm delivering it." She smirked at me, trying to think of something. "So you don't have the money?"
I tell her that I have the money, but I'm not repaying for an already paid-for order of pizzas.
"You have a good point," she said cutely, smirking. "I'm still afraid I can't give this to you unpaid however, so I have to think of a way you could fulfill your end of the obligation." Lost in thought, I still was wondering what she was doing, telling me I have to pay for something I expected without cost.
"I know!" Her face brightened as the idea bulb in her head came on. "You can kiss me, I'll take that for payment."
"Kiss you?" I was puzzled by her suggestion. "But you just said it was a $21 order, how does that--"
She backed me into the foyer, placing the food on the hall tree's shelf, then placing her arms at my wrist. "You weren't kidding when you said you were somewhat of a pop culture dunce, were you?" Rory smiled down at me, her thumbs brushing the hair on my arms, making it stand on end. Again, I ask if I have to pay for the pizzas or not.
I guess I learned that I didn't have to when she brought herself closer, then slowly kissed at me tenderly and softly, her plump lips making it clear that she knew she was in her house with her mother a room away, but she was more than willing to show her affection for me in house. Quickly the pizza argument was forgotten, and I was able to clasp my hands inside of hers as I fell more into the kiss. Up against that hall tree, I felt an ease I hadn't for the last two weeks, not having to be scared about having to hide what I really felt for Rory around someone, especially the most important person in her life.
Free...that's how I felt. I couldn't describe really how much that minute-long embrace made me feel, but the kiss felt as powerful as our first when we admitted. It told Lorelai that this is us, Rory and I, the couple. That we felt things beyond friendship for each other, that there is a bond here we can't deny.
We're not afraid to show affection, and that's the most surprising thing. When I released from the kiss, I felt winded, yet kept my hands within Rory's, and kept this silly smile on my face that strained my facial muscles, and I didn't want to let it go. My brown eyes met her clear blue, and I didn't have to hide it from Lorelai, who was watching it all from the doorway of the living room.
Oh, I forgot she kind of made a wolf whistle and said 'Down girl' towards Rory, but I have selective hearing; we won't let that detail ruin this picture of us.
"I liked that," Rory said softly to me, her hand along my index finger on the right side. "That was great."
"Yeah..." I was still shocked about all that went on tonight. "Do you need anything for the pizza?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I paid for it, do you not know the 'pizza delivery' routine that's been in many a movie?"
Baffled, I said what she had done didn't remind me of any movie I ever saw.
"Paris, really, what other thing can be used to pay off a service worker if the consumer has no money, and is usually seen initiated with Ron Jeremy in the service worker role?" Smiling, she offered another look at my chest, and it was finally then that I connected the dots. I think I'd be right in saying the payment form wasn't a promissory note.
"Ooohhh...I got it now," I realized. "You mean..."
"That which shall not be mentioned in the presence of my mom?"
"And cooled down to fit a PG rating?" Why were my hormones suddenly feeling a huge sense of disappointment that I couldn't do exactly what the role of me as the 'non-payer' could do to my 'deliverywoman'? Somehow I see myself having a dream about this in the next few days. "Is it wrong that I feel like I still have to catch up with you a little?"
"Of course not," she said. "Mom's picking out the movie?" I grabbed my pizza as Rory took her's and Ms. Gilmore's and we headed into the living room, where she was getting a DVD from the shelves. My eyes then landed on one right on top of the shelf with a familiar yellow brick motif that makes me sick to this day...
"OH GOD!" I shrieked, pointing at the offending title. "Please don't make me watch that, please, please, can you hide it? Don't make me look at that cover!" I cowered in fear, that longtime feeling back in my stomach stirring it towards vomiting and certain fears.
"Are you OK?" Rory was taken aback by my sudden behavior. "It's just...The Wizard of Oz, what's wrong with that movie?"
"What's wrong with that movie? Everything's wrong with that movie," I cried. "Mother made me watch it when I was two and said if I didn't behave, flying monkeys would throw me beneath a airborne house and squash me, and she said that her garden was full of those talking and moving trees, so don't go near it! I cannot watch Oz without fearing for my life!"
"But it's a magical story--" Lorelai tried to interrupt my thought track, but I had to get out my fears.
"I couldn't go to the apple orchard on a field trip because when I did I got scared that the trees would stone me with McIntoshes, and I still have nightmares about those midget people." By now I was hyperventilating and scared; I really, really, really never got over my fear of that movie. "I even gave Louise a black eye because she tried giving it to me as a gag bat mitzvah gift, that's how much it scares me! I'm so sorry, but I just can't stand that film, and the black-and-white-to-Techicolor transition..." I shuddered, settling on the couch as thankfully Lorelai quickly ran the DVD from the living room and into a junk drawer in the kitchen.
"So I guess the Dark Side of Oz won't be on the schedule next week," Lorelai yelled from the kitchen.
"Mom!" Rory smiled and draped a blanket across the both of us as she sat next to me. "I think we found your Frosty the Snowman, I'm sorry."
"That's the movie that scares you the most?" I asked.
"I can't take a melting manifestation of a human, too much for this girl to take." She settled against me and smiled. "At least we know you fear something, Mom was convinced you were made of lead."
"I still am as far as everyone else is concerned," I threatened, "Not a word Gilmore." I felt so comfortable that I couldn't take my most threatening tone with her talking to me this way; telling her all these fears that I haven't even told Birmbaum, she'd think it was so silly to be afraid of a kid's movie. Truth be told, most of them just scare me, taking me to this other world where all is unfamiliar and there's always an unexpected thing. I'll stick to literary versions of film, as long as it isn't Dr. Seuss.
Thankfully, Ms. Gilmore had a little more eclectic choice of film, and five minutes later, we were basking in the cinematic mess that is Switchblade Sisters. With a popcorn bowl between Rory and I, all three of us sat there and started to watch this movie from the 70's that somehow got distribution, and made Tara Reid shine in comparison. Twenty minutes in, I saw why Lorelai chose it for movie night; all of these girls were token everything; you had the innocent girl with the heart of gold, the battle-worn gangster girl, a bunch of minor thugs, and of course, the token 'butch girl'. Of course back in those days you couldn't scream the word 'lesbian' out, so you just put some brunette in a Fonzie jacket and let the audience draw the expected conclusion.
"Why does this seem like Chilton's production of Hair last year?" I commented, knowing my mocking skills were somewhat undeveloped. "And that guy in the suspenders, he looks like Robin Williams circa Mork and Mindy!" This movie was just awful; but awful to the Gilmores equals gold. I couldn't help but laugh, what with Rory's running commentary about the innocent girl who would later end up pregnant and then cut in a knife fight or something, the irony just being delicious.
It's just strange sitting here next to Rory all those hours later, and where I thought my life was over the moment the door whipped open and I'd be home by now being bitched out by Mother for 'this pathetic and self-loathing life path you chose', everything is fine, all is normal. I finally have a sanctuary, where to a point I can show how I really feel about Ror, and nothing will happen. Maybe an odd look from Lorelai because this is so odd to her, but besides that, I can be sweet, I don't have to be so bitter and caustic.
Really, I don't know how to feel right now, like I've gained an ally, or dodged a bullet. Treading carefully is the way to approach things for now, careful to take how Ms. Gilmore wants me to treat Rory. I think I can do it...
And that's the problem, that I can only think, not fully devote. That there's still so much within me that wants to do more than cuddle and hold hands, as what we're doing now. But what we did before, behind the door, before Lorelai walked in on us, it still spins that only a couple hours before, Rory's hands were at my bare waist, her eyes were raking me over erotically, her voice so sultry and tempting. I mean God, I was taken into second gear, and then the brakes were applied in such a jarring way. I can't forget that had Ms. Gilmore not opened that door, that instead of watching a movie with her in the room, I could be in Rory's bed, beyond reproach, numbed, my heart just beginning to slow down. That perhaps Rory and I would be in that bed, with but a layer between us, just eyeing each other up, whispering small things only we know to each other until slowly, reluctantly, I dress slowly, wanting to soak in that for four hours, we just shamelessly made out with no one in the way to stop us except for the occasional ringing phone and Morse code of 'S-M-S' from one of our cells.
I admit it; had Ms. Gilmore never opened that door, I probably would've dropped my resolve and let Rory go further, let her slide the camisole I wore off, just do with me what she must. In turn, I would've fallen deeper into her, and let her self-gratificate against me like she begged to do. It was shocking to hear "I want to get off" from her, but that she even brought me into that state of seduction, it was telling me she finds me beautiful. She was rambling on about my shoulders of all things, my shoulders! Everything is telling me that I need to stop this before it gets deep, that I need to slow down and apply these brakes, because despite my plea to Lorelai that I was taking things 'Ice Age slow', I also have to take in mind that the Ice Age started with a quick bang.
Damn it, I want more, OK? I want to be able to be in a room alone with Gilmore and do whatever I want, not have to self-edit just for modesty's sake. It felt nice being drawn in from that academic Harvard session and right into her arms with just a simple massage, nothing broad or grandiose. As I look at my girlfriend, it's great to know in at least one house in the world and with one other person, I can say that word without having someone get all Jack Van Impe on me. That I can relax and not have to put up a self-imposed shield around my heat.
That I can just smile and enjoy the delicious pizza, wonderful company, and overwrought acting unfolding on the screen. Now this is how a date should be, even with maternal supervision nearby. Two out of two so far, I think to myself, you never thought you'd have this record back in the 'taking your cousin to the Winter Formal for appearances' days.
Suddenly, I feel Rory's hand playing at my waist; her left hand, because her right is next to my left in the popcorn bowl. She looks all innocent above the blanket to all appearances from Lorelai, but below it, that hand of hers is awfully wandery. I startle, looking at Ms. Gilmore, too buried in mocking the movie to look towards our direction.
"Par?" she whispers.
"Huh?"
"I talked to Miss Patty while I waited for the pizza, she gave me a few pointers." Her voice is detectable to no one but me, since I'm leaning against her shoulder.
"It's...it's fine," I say, truthfully. "But your mom..."
"Is too distracted to notice as I do this. Follow my lead." I see her retract her right hand, and bring her left hand away from me. She lifts it out from the blanket, and then into the bowl. Not knowing what she's about to pull, I retract my left and pull my right out and into the popcorn bowl. I kept an eye nervously to Lorelai, too busy mocking the horrible lack of authority at the school setting for this film, as the gang members ruled the campus with an iron fist. If that ever happened at Chilton, the parents would behead Charleston.
Imagine my surprise when her hand doesn't move back to my waist; instead she moves it slowly from my side and up around behind my shirts, the cami and sweater, until it rests on my back, where she starts to scratch below the bra line slowly and seductively. Somehow there's enough space for her to maneuver around, and once again, the innocent small town girl I had taken as not having many surprises, is so shamelessly within the sight of her mother, seducing me even further into her clutches.
My eyes widen, and there should've been some suspicions by Lorelai, but when she looked towards us, she just saw us as having a blanket above us and close like a couple in a toothpaste commercial, nothing more. She went back to the movie, and that's when Rory turned me from stone hard and stiff, to liquid and calm, her hand at the middle of my back, no bra to stop her.
"You know..." she says in a deep hush. "I would've taken off my shirt had we gone further. I just love massaging you Par, you're so soft, so smooth...so beautiful."
"Th-th-thank you," I respond back shakily. "It feels real nice."
"I know it does." She smiles, and then I made a move of my own, deciding to startle her and give her a taste of her own medicine. Carefully, I place my hand on her thigh, lower at first, running my palm along the soft denim of those blue jeans that somehow formed against her ass just right.
Yes, I just complimented Rory's rear end, I'm allowed to be shallow once in awhile!
For five minutes I keep my hand there, and as I feel myself on the inside moan from the flittery and soft touches from her fingers and nails, up to and including scratching my name and hers in my back, including what I think is a heart shape, I decide it might be fun to test her out, see where she is as far as intimacy. She did let me rip her shirt off, albeit accidentally, I think.
Slowly, I work my hand higher up her thigh, first towards the middle. No reaction yet. She still concentrates on the movie, lazy circles and figures on and just outside my spinal column making me start to tire. Higher again, much more than last month when I was soothing her in the car, I'd say I'd be two inches into her Chilton skirt if she was wearing it. Again I look at Lorelai; no suspicions. I shift my palm higher, higher, higher...
I feel the bottom rivet at the pocket of her jeans, and she starts to react. I feel her shift in her seat, but unlike Dean she's not acting as if she wants me to retract, she pushes closer, in turn her hand moving more to the right of my back. I shallowly breathe, wanting to whinny out her name, yet holding back, keeping my lips sealed. It's becoming like a game, how risky can we get before Lorelai turns from friendly and stern. Both of us, pushing the envelope.
She makes as if she's leaning on my shoulder, in reality her hand is moving to wrap around me completely beneath the blanket. I push higher, more inside of her thigh. Her eyes in the dim light darken as she stares at me, and I do the same to her. We know exactly where things are going, keeping just enough concentration on the movie to describe things, but not into the plot.
Her right hand is now at my right side, I hold back the first impulse to say things are getting too hot. I'm definitely violating Lorelai's touch level, but she can't notice that, not with the layer between us. I'm now above the Mendoza line of indecency, the back of my hand touching the seam of Rory's jeans pocket. Her face is contorted between normalcy and sensuality. I can tell, she wants to give in. I move inside, she moves outside, her fingers playing almost at the point where my breast meets my side, she slides beneath the thin band of the shelf of it. My mouth is wide open, and I try to hide the reaction I have with a handful of Jolly Time, able to hide the reaction of a moan behind the buttery taste.
I move in closer...closer...closer. I'm in no woman's land now. My fingers run along the pull of her jeans zipper, and all she's giving me to go on is our secret signal; that smile that says 'go ahead and play'. She wants this...oh my God. What a surprise this is.
I was supposed to stop by now, put on the brakes. But I don't want to, and somehow I think Gilmore doesn't want to. I mean here we are, sitting on a sofa with her mother three feet away, and she's completely ignored because we're falling so completely into each other, that we can't keep our hands off each other. Her hand drifts higher and deeper against where my breast starts, and my fingers slide across the teeth of her jeans zipper. My index finger and thump clasp the zip, and I work it down, softly, so it isn't heard. Just enough to do what I need to do.
Her hand finally brushes my breast, and I moan quietly, thankful for the popcorn. I'm not letting her win, Rory is going to have to take my silence for now. She then moves her hand down, innocently brushing her fingers across the sensitive bottom until she reaches my stomach, where she finally rests her hand.
I slide down the catch of her zipper just enough to be able to brush inside with my index finger, and I slowly, watching her eyes and her mouthing for permission, to dip it in. I play with the material as she grabs a bit of popcorn to eat; soft cotton, as I expect. Her breathing is shallow, her speeded heartbeat a guarantee to me. Slowly, I run my finger along the right side of the zipper teeth, imagining what she might be wearing. I can't believe she's letting me get this close, so close that I know Dean hasn't even been at this territory.
Ice age slow...Ice age slow...ice age slow...The words to describe our relationship, suddenly feel like they're changing over from the truth, and into a lie. I'm not going to do anything but toy a little, but there's a tight pull here that I can't help. I'm seeing more in myself the aggressor that turned Rory's chopstick lesson into a makeout session than the shy girl I was around Tristan. I push my finger closer, closer, pushing her panty material along her lips. She's not relenting, she wants me to do this. I keep thinking about her touch along my breast, how at this moment, an immediate change of panties will be needed, perhaps a cold shower, I can feel myself contract even though there's nothing sensual happening down there.
I can sense the outline, and I push the material up in a torturous way, just as Rory puts the popcorn in her mouth, the pad of my fingerprint can feel the line of moisture start where I am...
"EhhoohhhhmmOooouuuccchhh!" This moan from Rory gets Lorelai's attention, and quickly I feel Rory's hand retreat from my side. We've been caught...somewhat. I move my hand back to outside her thigh as Lorelai's attention is turned towards us.
"Kiddo, you OK?"
A very apparent blush registers on Rory's face, one I damn well know I caused. She fakes a choke, and then with the most innocent look on her face, explains herself.
"Yeah..." Rory says, as she lets an unpopped hull fall from her mouth and into her hand. "Bit down on one of these, I need to do a better job avoiding them." She puts it back into the bowl, and I pause in fear, wondering if I have indeed gone too far and if Ms. Gilmore did actually notice anything.
She shakes her head and makes a quick quip about unpopped popcorn hulls being devices of evil, and then gets right back to the movie. Rory then leans on my shoulder again, and after two minutes of silence, she wraps her hand around my back above my clothes, and softly notes what just ensued.
"Thanks a lot, I'll be thinking about that all night." Her whisper is soft and wanting, and teasing.
"As will I," I respond. "I can't help it."
"You know how hard it's going to be this weekend without you?"
"I'll be going kicking and screaming, but that's why I have all those cell minutes and the PowerBook." We start to watch the movie again, and she lets me know with a snuck kiss when Lorelai looks towards the window as a siren in downtown sounds that she'll be missing me too.
God, I'm going to hate Florida this year even more than usual; ever since the divorce the new tradition is that Mother drags me down to Ormond Beach for Thanksgiving to see her side of the family, and I hate them all. My aunts and uncles are stupid and annoying, and let's not even mention the kids, dirty and noisy. Every year despite my advanced age and disdain for the young, I sit at the kiddie table, having to take care of the little brats that are usually the result of the condom breaking or too much drinking, while eating the worst turkey and trimmings south of the Mason/Dixon line; do I even have to note the 'cranberry sauce' is cranberry Jell-O, and I get picked on by everyone because of my stubborn Jewishness and refusal to violate dietary guidelines?
The tradition of the DeBartolo and Martinez men around the screen watching football is only matched in inanity by the women of the family talking about their latest marriage chances like they're in the NCAA basketball tourney pool. Then the annual tradition of everyone going down to Disney World on Saturday, of course bankrolled courtesy of Sharon's high holiday time alimony payments, which I feel should be nothing considering all she put Daddy through. About the only advantage of the whole thing is being able to work on my tan while down there.
Oh, and Mohegan Man will be there. The Lord giveth (Rory), thus he's gotta take something away (respect for anyone on the maternal side of the coin).
Rory looks at me, and I know she'll treasure all the time we have until Wednesday early dismissal, when I have to leave. But at least I know leaving Hartford, that I have Ms. Gilmore's blessing, that gave me a big boost that I can take the relationship into something more, which I want, and certainly from tonight, Rory wants. She's going to give me all the trust that I have, and I'm going to do my best not to blow this. Knowing me, I'm going to need more than a four-leaf clover to keep this lucky streak going. Lorelai is only one person of many that we have to tell, and both Rory and I know that someone is eventually not going to be happy with the idea of us as a couple.
I want this to work, and I'm going to devote all I have to being the best girlfriend that I can to Rory. I can't think of the future right now, I have to build things up for now in the present.
Then again, it's an admirable goal, working to be Ror's first, then last girlfriend. I hope things end up working out to be that long, but judging from her playing footsie with me right now, there's just a good chance I might get that far...