Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LORELAI
My stomach is doing flips of joy. Not only did Luke and I have supper together on prom night, but he’s taking me out for ice cream, and he held my hand the entire way here. Dear younger self, all your dreams are coming true!
After a couple of minutes, Luke walks across the ice cream parlor carrying identical sundaes served in sugar cone cups. He announces, “As per our earlier conversation, one scoop of Bordeaux cherry and one scoop of pistachio with homemade hot fudge.”
“Yum!”
Instead of sitting across from me, Luke positions himself right next to me. The little hairs all over my body respond by standing at attention. Handing me a spoon, he says, “I got you your own because I’m pretty competitive when it comes to this flavor combination.”
The thought that he even considered sharing makes me wonder what the heck is going on here. Luke has made it clear that nothing is going to happen between us, and yet he held my hand for three blocks and now he’s making reference to our sharing dessert? Even though I’m sure this doesn’t mean anything, it still feels pretty romantic.
I take a spoonful of Bordeaux cherry first and nearly swoon from pleasure. “A boy from school asked me out for ice cream once,” I tell him. Why did I say that?
He shrugs his eyebrows up and down. “And? How did that go?”
“Poorly,” I tell him. “It was two weeks before prom so I was hopeful he was going to ask me, but instead he wanted to talk about Allie. He asked if she had any plans to go.”
His face contorts into a grimace. “Ouch.”
I hurry to explain, “It’s not like I was hung up on him or anything, but it was senior year, so it was my last chance to go to a high school prom.” I internally scream at myself to stop oversharing, but of course, I don’t. I feel compelled to add, “I never wanted to have to tell my daughter that no boy ever asked me to a high school dance.”
The expression on Luke’s face makes it clear he feels bad for me. But instead of commenting, he puts his spoon down and stands up. Then he walks across the room to the juke box and pulls coins out of his pocket. He inserts them into the machine before making a couple of selections. Moments later, he walks back and reaches out to take my hand again. “Lorelai, will you do me the honor of going to prom with me?”
“What?” Giddiness fills every corner of me. “You can’t be serious, Luke.”
“Why not?” he asks. “It is prom night. So, all you have to do is say yes and we’ll have our own little dance right here. That way if your daughter asks you how your prom was you can tell her you had a great time.”
“A great time, huh?” A nearly ancient tune starts to play, and I giggle. “Frank Sinatra?”
He rolls his eyes comically. “I don’t think they’ve updated the juke box since our grandparents were kids.”
I let Luke take my hand and help me to my feet. He puts one arm around my waist and pulls me close before putting the other around my shoulder. “Does this mean you’ll go to the prom with me?”
I feel like I’m living a dream. “Yes, Luke. I’ll go to prom with you.”
We start to sway back and forth to “The Way You Look Tonight.” We’re dancing so closely I can smell remnants of Luke’s cologne mixed with the more prominent aroma of fried food from the diner. Good thing I love the smell of onion rings above all else.
Even though this isn’t a real high school dance, the fact that Luke is acting out such a charade for my benefit speaks volumes about what a considerate man he is. Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “This is actually more fun than the real prom.”
I know he can’t possibly be talking about his choice of date, so I tease, “It’s the cherry ice cream, isn’t it?”
“Among other things.” His answer makes my heart skip a beat. Why can’t Luke want to live in Elk Lake like I do? It’s not just because he’s every bit as attractive as I remember. He’s such a thoughtful and caring son; he’s funny—except for when he’s poking fun at me; and that man can cook! If not for the location issue, I think we might just be perfect together.
Once the song ends, “Crocodile Rock” by Elton John comes on. Luke breaks apart from me and starts some weird interpretive dance routine that both enchants me and makes me want to jump into his arms. “Ready for a fast number?” he asks.
Shaking my head slowly, I tell him, “I’m ready for the pistachio ice cream.”
As soon as we sit down, Luke says, “My dad should get a juke box for the diner.”
“That would be amazing,” I tell him.
“But he won’t because my dad is a creature of habit who doesn’t like change.”
“Some people might say the same thing about me,” I tell him before explaining, “Change is scary. ”
“It’s exciting though!” His eyes start to shine in such a way that, compared to me, it’s clear Luke is an adrenaline junkie.
“What’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done?” I ask.
He thinks for a beat before saying, “Cliff jumping. Kahekili's Leap in Hawaii is a seventy-five-foot straight jump right into the Pacific.” The animated expression on his face makes his enthusiasm clear. “How about you? What’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done?”
There’s no way to answer his question without him learning what a true dud I am. “I shoplifted a tube of ChapStick once when I was seven.”
“Excuse me?” Luke barks with amusement.
“It’s true,” I tell him. “I really wanted a grape Chapstick, but my mom said no because she’d just bought me a cherry one the week before.”
“Did you get caught?” I shake my head, so he asks, “Why was it so exciting then?”
“I could have gotten caught. I was terrified I would.” I take another bite of my ice cream.
“Did anyone ever find out?”
Nodding my head slowly, I tell him, “Yeah. I turned myself in.”
“What?” Now he really is laughing.
“I turned myself in when my mom was paying for her prescription.”
His eyes are twinkling with downright merriment. “What happened?”
“My mom tried to make me give the Chapstick back.”
“So, you didn’t really shoplift it,” he concludes.
“Oh, I took it all right. I opened it up right in front of my mom and the clerk and put it on my lips so they couldn’t make me give it back.” I explain, “My mom paid for it, but she grounded me, and she took my Chapstick away.”
“You’re a renegade,” Luke teases.
“I like my Chapstick,” I assure him smugly before going back to my ice cream. This time I combine the pistachio and cherry. The result is sublime.
“I don’t remember much of your childhood,” Luke says, “But I do have one very clear memory.”
“My unfortunate looks?” I guess.
He shakes his head, so I ask, “The eight years of braces?”
“No. I remember when Noah and I were in the eighth grade, and you knocked on his bedroom door one night. When he told you to go away, you flung the door open and staggered in on a pair of high heels. You were wearing bright red lipstick, and …”
A flash of that night pops into my mind and compels me to interrupt him. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”
“Ah, you remember then?” He looks enormously happy with himself for bringing this up.
“I remember,” I tell him. My face burns hot with embarrassment for my younger self.
“What were those things?” he wants to know.
“I thought we were done talking about this.” I sound angrier than I am. I just want to move on.
“We can be done once you answer my question.”
I inhale deeply before exhaling with even more force. “My mom used to wear panty hose that came in a plastic egg. I used to … you know …” I gesture toward my chest to finish the thought.
“You put plastic eggs down your shirt to make it look like you had boobs!” I swear to God, he practically yells that.
“Yes, Luke, that’s what I did. I was nine.”
He starts laughing so hard I’m tempted to get up and leave. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I drawl.
He valiantly tries to compose himself but is not successful because he apparently feels the need to add, “And those shoes! We thought you were going to kill yourself!”
I don’t know what comes over me, but I decide to confess, “I did that for you, Luke. I was trying to show you that I wasn’t the little girl you thought I was. ”
His expression turns to sympathy. “I know that, Lorelai. You weren’t very subtle.”
“Maybe not, but my feelings were real. I wanted you to see me as a big girl, and I don’t appreciate you making fun of me now.”
“Oh Lorelai.” He reaches up and takes one of my hands. “I’m not making fun. It was really sweet.”
I put my spoon down. I’ve totally lost my appetite. “Well, this is a terrible ending to what has so far been a very nice evening.”
“Why is this a terrible ending?” he wants to know.
“You’re laughing at me,” I point out.
“I was in the eighth grade, Lorelai. It was funny.”
“While that may be, you are no longer in the eighth grade, and I find this to be a very embarrassing topic of conversation.”
“There has been no other girl, or woman for that matter, who has ever gone to the lengths you did to get my attention,” he tells me. “It was very sweet.”
“More like mortifying,” I tell him.
“I may not have been very nice at the time, but I can tell you that as an adult I’m honored to have once meant so much to you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously. You may have been a late bloomer but look at you now. You’re gorgeous! To think you once thought so highly of me is a real boost to my ego.”
“Right.” I roll my eyes so hard I feel the strain. “At least you’re safe from me now,” I tell him.
“Because you’re no longer interested in me that way?” Why did he have to ask that?
I’m not going to come right out and tell him that’s the reason because it’s clearly not. I’m interested all right. “Because you’ve made it clear that you are never going to live in Elk Lake again so there’s no point in pursuing the idea of us as a couple.” My ice cream is going to turn to soup.
“What if I did live here?”
Why is he toying with me? “Are you?”
He shakes his head. “Probably not. ”
“So, there you have it. Let’s move on, shall we?” I’m so agitated right now I could smack him with my spoon. Repeatedly.
“What do you want to talk about now?” he asks.
“I suppose I could tell you how I got a D in Geometry, unless of course you’d rather here about the time I broke my leg running from a cricket.” Why not air all my dirty laundry?
Luke stands up and reaches out to take my hand. “How about if we go to the juke box and pick out a couple more songs to dance to. You, know”—he winks—“to add authenticity to the prom story you’re going to tell your daughter someday.”
I really do want to dance with Luke, but I’m overflowing with embarrassment for being such an awkward weirdo of a little girl who pined for him so relentlessly. Why couldn’t I have been older? The fact that he remembers such humiliating things about me is beyond mortifying.
“I think I’ve danced enough,” I tell him. “I should probably get going. I’ve got a big day tomorrow buying appliances.”
“Lorelai.” He says my name so tenderly I feel emotion prickle behind my eyes.
I pick up my ice cream and carry it across the room to the garbage before coming back to collect my coat.
“I’m sorry,” Luke says. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”
I don’t have any idea how to respond to that. I wish I could have played it cool, but there are simply too many versions of me taking up space in my current twenty-eight-year-old body. And every one has spent way too long being hopelessly in love with Luke Phillips.
I offer a pathetic attempt at a smile. “Looks like I did a pretty good job of embarrassing myself,” I tell him. “But that doesn’t matter now. You’ve got your life, and I’ve got mine, and it’s clear we’re going in opposite directions.”
Luke reaches out to take my hand, but I won’t let him. Instead, I say, “Thank you for a mostly nice night.” Then I turn and walk out of the ice cream parlor.