TROUVAILLE ... l.danes (REWRITE)

chapter six; the present

WHERE HER GIRLHOOD USED TO SIT 

two-thousand-and-two

ALMOST TWO weeks have passed since Shelley showed up on her parents' doorstep, one bag hanging from her shoulder in an attempt to salvage her dignity. Being back in this town has almost entirely reverted her back to her youth. Sleeping in the same bed with the mattress that sinks in the middle and the pillows she used to spray with lavender to help her sleep at night. Eating freshly baked goods from Weston's with Olive on her breaks. Buying groceries with her Mom from Doose's, now owned by Mr Doose's son, Taylor. All that disappointment from her post-Harvard years that she had been collecting has been lifted from her shoulders by the fresh air of her small hometown, and it no longer matters that she only has three pairs of shoes, or most likely no job to go back to.

Well, okay, that sort of matters, but she's trying desperately not to think about how her life is teetering on the edge. Actually, she's trying very hard to enjoy this whole reverting to youth thing she's got going on, even if she's not a big fan of all the feelings starting to swirl around her gut again.

From the other side of the square, she can clearly make out the sign hanging above Luke's diner. Every day for the past two weeks, she's found herself sitting in there when the loneliness gets a little too stifling, listening to Luke's annoyed huffs while she bands with his nephew, Jess, to make fun of him. It's been sixteen years, but still, every time he turns his head to laugh at one of her jokes, something in her stomach tightens and explodes like a bunch of butterflies being released from their cocoons at the same time.

She continues past the bus stop, where the only passenger waiting for the bus happens to be a teenage girl downing a cup of Luke's coffee as quickly as she can before her bus shows up. Rory Gilmore, Lorelai's daughter, sits in her Chilton school uniform, one hand holding open a Sylvia Plath poetry book while the other holds her coffee, perfectly dividing between taking sips and turning pages.

She looks up just as Shelley passes by.

"Hi, Shelley!"

The woman stops and turns to greet the younger girl with a simple 'hello, Rory' that has her sitting up a little straighter. It makes Shelley smile. She'd taken a shine to the younger girl as soon as she'd met her, pleased by the list after list after list of questions she'd had on her to ask, watching her write down the answers when they were supposed to be eating noodles from the pancake place, laughing along with Lorelai when she'd conked out while getting Shelley to explain her most famous piece on Christianity and Rock Music. It had been the best night Shelley had had in a long time, and it had all been because of the teenage girl who wanted to follow in her footsteps.

The bus is hurtling towards them too fast for Shelley to be able to stop and talk, so the two just wave at each other and go off in their separate directions, Shelley towards the diner on the corner, and Rory into the bus, where she sits down with her nose stuffed in her book, not even noticing her boyfriend waving from the school stairs. She looks up, just at the last moment as the bus stutters out of town, to send the journalist a sunshine smile that pierces right through her heart where her girlhood used to sit. Is that what they all used to look like? Young, and happy, and free, and alive, and, and, and... all that stuff she never felt she ever would be again.

Shelley freezes to a halt in front of the diner windows. Her lips start to tilt up before she realises, watching Luke stuck behind his counter like always, usual grumpy expression on his face as he stacks freshly cleaned mugs. He's nothing like the guy she knew sixteen years ago.