Chapter Text
“No.”
“But Mom-”
“No,” Lorelai shook her head, curls flying wildly. “No, no, no! Do you wanna hear it in Spanish? No.”
“Mom, come on-”
“French? Non. Pig Latin? O-nay.”
“What is she babbling about now?” Luke grumbled, setting their breakfast orders down.
“Rory wants to sleep in a stranger’s bed!” Lorelai pointed her finger at her.
“You what ?”
“That’s not - I don’t - “ Rory spluttered. “That’s out of context!”
“You know what? I don’t wanna know,” Luke decided, beating a hasty retreat. Wise choice.
“Mom, let me explain, okay?”
“Fine, but you’re not changing my mind.”
Rory took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She knew this idea was a hard sell, no matter who she was telling, but it was a good idea! And it was economical - which was something she really needed to think about now.
“It’s just having a roommate, okay? You didn’t care when I was living with Paris and Doyle, or - “ she stopped, not wanting to bring him into this. Lorelai hummed sympathetically, her lower lip jutting out. Rory forged ahead. “Anyway, not the point. This is just living with a roommate, but in a slightly….different way.”
“Honey, it’s one bedroom,” Lorelai frowned. “You’d be sharing the bed. With a stranger.”
“But not at the same time! The Tribune put me on the night desk, which means I’ll be nocturnal for the foreseeable future. This guy works during the day and he said most weekends he’s either working or at his girlfriend’s place. We’d never even have to see each other!”
“It’s just weird!” Lorelai wrinkled her nose. “You’re gonna be sleeping in the same bed as some strange dude. A dude! Dudes are famous for their grossness and multitude of bodily fluids!”
“Ew, Mom!”
“Yes!” Lorelai gestured wildly. “Yes, ew! Get on my wavelength, baby!”
“Look, I don’t really have any other options,” Rory sighed, already tired of this argument. “I’ve looked for other places and everywhere in my price range looks like a meth lab. Or has mushrooms growing behind the sink. Or-”
“Alright, I get it.”
“I’d only be paying $350 a month,” Rory could hear the wheedling in her voice. 24 years old, and still needing Mommy’s permission. “I’m getting paid in experience and just enough to pay my phone bill at this job, which means I need to be smart about where I live.”
“You could always ask the grandparents….”
“I can’t believe you, of all people, are saying that to me.”
“Speaking of,” Lorelai raised her eyebrows. “How do you plan on selling this to the glorious Emily?”
“Crossing that bridge when I come to it,” Rory stabbed at her pancakes. “Mom, I….this past year has been….a lot. I need to get out of town, hence the job in Philadelphia. I need to just….put all this behind me. Can you understand that?”
“Oh, hon,” Lorelai reached across the table and put her hand on top of Rory’s. “You’re talking to the queen of needing to get out of town, okay? But is this really the best move? What do you know about this guy?”
“His name is Jess-”
“Jess?”
“Jess,” Rory confirmed. “Mariano.”
“Italian?”
“Didn’t ask.”
“Mamma mia.”
“He works at an indie press,” Rory felt herself smile as she said it. “He publishes books. How’s that for fate?”
“A bullet on the pro side of the list, sure,” Lorelai nodded.
“He’s 24, he has a full-time job, he claims to be clean and organized and, oh, did I mention that I’d only be paying $350 a month?”
“You’ve already decided to do this, haven’t you?”
“Yep.”
“Nothing I say is gonna change your mind?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve already messaged the guy, haven’t you?”
“Not yet,” Rory pulled a notepad out of her bag. “I was hoping you could help me draft something up?”
“What, are you guys communicating by carrier pigeon?”
“No, I just didn’t bring my computer,” Rory stuck her tongue out. “Now, shall we?”
Lorelai sighed, obviously still conflicted about the whole situation. Rory hated that she was doing something so against what her mom wanted, but she needed to go somewhere new. She needed to do something completely on her own. She needed to get away from any memory of him .
“What’s the vibe you’re going for?” she finally said.
“Vibe?”
“You know, cool, smart, funny, impersonal; what vibe?”
“Hmmm,” Rory pursed her lips. “Maybe a mix of the first three? Basically anything that doesn’t make me seem like a serial killer.”
“I think I can work with that.”
They brainstormed for an hour, the page filling up with scribbled sentences and crossed out lines, but by the end of breakfast, Rory was satisfied with the results. She didn’t get a chance to type up the email until that night, after a Die Hard marathon and dozens of butterscotch chip cookies - courtesy of Sookie.
She stared at her computer screen, not really seeing the words in front of her. Was she crazy for doing this? What if she was making a huge mistake? What if he was totally weird, or gross, or some pervert? What if, what if, what if?
But what if it works out? A small voice inside her head pointed out. What if this is exactly what I need right now?
That voice won out over the whiny, scared one. She squared her shoulders and turned her attention back to the computer.
Alright, Mr. Mariano , she thought, reading her message over one last time. It’s up to you now.
And then she hit send.