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Challenge: B
Disclaimer: The characters in these drabbles do not belong to me. They're far too independent to belong to anyone.
I look at her backpack next to her chair, not quite believing she's here. Four months, 16 days and four hours. She's telling me about Rome, about some guy that tried to sell her a pedometer in Villa Torlonia. I'm listening, I am. But I'm watching her, too. And I feel my mouth smile despite the nervousness.
?Everything's changed here,' she mock-pouts, scanning the menu.
Oh, hon, you don't know the half of it. She slides it across the table to me, and I pretend to hesitate. Truth is, right now, I couldn't face a burger and fries.
Even Luke's.
We telephoned everyday. For four months and 16 days, we didn't miss one day. Even last week during my vacation overseas. Somehow she's managed to keep something from me on 138 phone-calls.
?Mom, what's wrong?' I nibble on a chilli fry, casual-like.
She beams. ?Nothing's wrong. Can't a mother enjoy her prodigal offspring? Ooh, by the way, tonight, Miss Patty's, B chord festival.'
Did she just by-the-way me?! ?Can't wait. Tough I'm missing your by-the-way.'
?Offspring, the, basic band, one chord, possibly B, B chord festival. Rusty.'
She looks happy enough. Maybe nothing is wrong.
She hasn't touched her coffee.
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
-Land √
-Meet Mom at gate √
-Play Petra Magoni in car √
-Phone Lane to see when free today √
-Tell Mom about Pedometer Fabio
-Get the gossip on Michel's appendectomy dating
-Hart To Hart marathon!!!
-Ask Mom if Taylor's been marketing nodding car figurines of himself
-Give Paul Anka his Parma broccoli
-Phone Paris about Tuesday
?Rory, put the list away and live your reunion with Momma.'
?But I'm only here a week, don't wanna forget anything.'
She peers at me intensely and retaliates by scribbling on the list,
"-Find out what it is Mom's not telling me."
?Freeway!'
?Freeway, that's it! Honestly. Who calls their dog Freeway?'
?Fictional millionaires with no imagination.'
?Oh, there's my next lonely-hearts advert! Fun-loving F inn-keeper seeks fictional millionaire with no imagination.'
?No imagination? You sure? Anyway I thought you were good on that front.'
?I am. Kidding, kid. So, tell me about Si the Mysterious. What sports is he into, what music, what are his intentions?'
?Honourable. As far as being into sport can be honourable. You? I mean, him? What are his intentions toward my mother?'
?Same old.'
?Good.'
?Rory, about that? There is something I need to tell you.'
So glad ur back. Cant w8 2 c u tom. I have sumthing 2 show u u'll luv it. It's a 1950s fountain pen that doubles as letter opener, v pretty. Thanx 4 ur postcard frm Rome btw. U must introduce Simon!!! Wen can he come 2 Connecticut? U sed hes frm Chicago? Did he go to Yale? May b he knows ur grandfather. Has that pig-headed mother of urs told u yet? I told her she shud come clean months ago:-( Have 2 go, c u 2 @ Fri nite dinner.
?Since when did Grandma start using text messaging?'
?Rory, angel of the Stars
Hollow population
Our town's like Mars
Empty and causing suffocation
And red
When you're not here
Today we cheer and celebrate
Your return among us
Our joy might decerebrate
The brainiest among us
Even you
For now you're here
'Tis four months or a hundred years
Since you embarked on your travels
And the town has known many tears
Five different coloured gravels
So far
Two streets from here
Rory, Rory, Rory, Rory
Welcome back to our story!'
She blushes and smiles as most of Stars Hollow claps cheerfully. ?Thank you, Kirk, that was? sweet!'
She hasn't told her yet. I can tell because Rory hasn't reacted. I've had time to make three fresh coffee pots, serve two dozen customers, peruse two issues of Fishing Monthly, suffer Taylor about my damn front sidewalk not matching the new gravel, and smile at Rory umpteen times. Meanwhile, Lorelai hasn't found two seconds to talk to her daughter.
Or, more likely, she hasn't found the right words. But we discussed it last night, we rehearsed.
Come on, Lorelai, she needs to know! That in about five months, there's gonna be one more Gilmore girl. And that she's mine.
Disclaimer: The characters in these drabbles do not belong to me. They're far too independent to belong to anyone.
Back and Forth
I look at her backpack next to her chair, not quite believing she's here. Four months, 16 days and four hours. She's telling me about Rome, about some guy that tried to sell her a pedometer in Villa Torlonia. I'm listening, I am. But I'm watching her, too. And I feel my mouth smile despite the nervousness.
?Everything's changed here,' she mock-pouts, scanning the menu.
Oh, hon, you don't know the half of it. She slides it across the table to me, and I pretend to hesitate. Truth is, right now, I couldn't face a burger and fries.
Even Luke's.
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
We telephoned everyday. For four months and 16 days, we didn't miss one day. Even last week during my vacation overseas. Somehow she's managed to keep something from me on 138 phone-calls.
?Mom, what's wrong?' I nibble on a chilli fry, casual-like.
She beams. ?Nothing's wrong. Can't a mother enjoy her prodigal offspring? Ooh, by the way, tonight, Miss Patty's, B chord festival.'
Did she just by-the-way me?! ?Can't wait. Tough I'm missing your by-the-way.'
?Offspring, the, basic band, one chord, possibly B, B chord festival. Rusty.'
She looks happy enough. Maybe nothing is wrong.
She hasn't touched her coffee.
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
-Land √
-Meet Mom at gate √
-Play Petra Magoni in car √
-Phone Lane to see when free today √
-Tell Mom about Pedometer Fabio
-Get the gossip on Michel's appendectomy dating
-Hart To Hart marathon!!!
-Ask Mom if Taylor's been marketing nodding car figurines of himself
-Give Paul Anka his Parma broccoli
-Phone Paris about Tuesday
?Rory, put the list away and live your reunion with Momma.'
?But I'm only here a week, don't wanna forget anything.'
She peers at me intensely and retaliates by scribbling on the list,
"-Find out what it is Mom's not telling me."
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
?Freeway!'
?Freeway, that's it! Honestly. Who calls their dog Freeway?'
?Fictional millionaires with no imagination.'
?Oh, there's my next lonely-hearts advert! Fun-loving F inn-keeper seeks fictional millionaire with no imagination.'
?No imagination? You sure? Anyway I thought you were good on that front.'
?I am. Kidding, kid. So, tell me about Si the Mysterious. What sports is he into, what music, what are his intentions?'
?Honourable. As far as being into sport can be honourable. You? I mean, him? What are his intentions toward my mother?'
?Same old.'
?Good.'
?Rory, about that? There is something I need to tell you.'
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
So glad ur back. Cant w8 2 c u tom. I have sumthing 2 show u u'll luv it. It's a 1950s fountain pen that doubles as letter opener, v pretty. Thanx 4 ur postcard frm Rome btw. U must introduce Simon!!! Wen can he come 2 Connecticut? U sed hes frm Chicago? Did he go to Yale? May b he knows ur grandfather. Has that pig-headed mother of urs told u yet? I told her she shud come clean months ago:-( Have 2 go, c u 2 @ Fri nite dinner.
?Since when did Grandma start using text messaging?'
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
?Rory, angel of the Stars
Hollow population
Our town's like Mars
Empty and causing suffocation
And red
When you're not here
Today we cheer and celebrate
Your return among us
Our joy might decerebrate
The brainiest among us
Even you
For now you're here
'Tis four months or a hundred years
Since you embarked on your travels
And the town has known many tears
Five different coloured gravels
So far
Two streets from here
Rory, Rory, Rory, Rory
Welcome back to our story!'
She blushes and smiles as most of Stars Hollow claps cheerfully. ?Thank you, Kirk, that was? sweet!'
-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-
She hasn't told her yet. I can tell because Rory hasn't reacted. I've had time to make three fresh coffee pots, serve two dozen customers, peruse two issues of Fishing Monthly, suffer Taylor about my damn front sidewalk not matching the new gravel, and smile at Rory umpteen times. Meanwhile, Lorelai hasn't found two seconds to talk to her daughter.
Or, more likely, she hasn't found the right words. But we discussed it last night, we rehearsed.
Come on, Lorelai, she needs to know! That in about five months, there's gonna be one more Gilmore girl. And that she's mine.