TROUVAILLE ... l.danes (REWRITE)

chapter thirty; the present

I'M OVER YOU. SHE'S A GODDAMN LIAR.

two-thousand-and-three

SHE FREEZES in front of the diner.

When was the last time she was here? A week? Two weeks? She's lost track of the time. Every morning she makes her own coffee in her parents' kitchen and forces herself into work, becoming accustomed to a new routine that suits her. She gets to wear jeans to work. Gets to read behind the counter, letting the sunlight stream through the window and heat her like a cat that lounges in the only patch of sun. She's gotten used to working again. To enjoying work, again. To drinking shitty coffee because her parents don't care about it as much as she does. To ignoring the one part of town she can barely stand to be away from.

And now, Lorelai has brought her back.

She never should have agreed on joining Lorelai at her usual Friday night dinners with her family. The woman hates them. Loathes them to a degree that it almost sounds like she's being burned in Hell every single time she has to go to one. So, of course, Shelley had to agree when Lorelai begged, and begged, and begged her to come along to support her since Rory won't be with her. Why did Christopher's girlfriend have to go into labour today?

Lorelai stops at the door and twists her head around to Shelley, eyebrow arching towards the light-haired woman she's convinced to help her. Everyone in town knows that Shelley is avoiding Luke. It appears that he is also avoiding her. Nobody in town knows why. Lorelai, being the amazing town citizen that she is, is determined to use this night to find out. Ply her with enough mojitos and she'll be singing like a pretty canary in the palm of her hand.

God, she sounds like her mother, doesn't she?

"Coming?"

She peeks through the long windows but can't see Luke anywhere. It's now or never. Best to get Lorelai her coffee before he appears magically out of nowhere, and then, they can be on the road and she can spend the rest of the night wishing she had stayed at home, because at least there she might actually feel welcome. Oh, God, she's really not looking forward to this.

Shelley follows Lorelai into the diner. Her stomach knots at the thought. It's only been two weeks and still the memories of her voicemail ring around in her head. She still has no idea if he even listened to it – oh, who is she kidding? Of course, he listened to it. And now, he thinks she's totally one hundred percent in love with him. (Which she is, even if she refuses to admit the love part of the whole equation.) Maybe, she should skip town again. She's done it before. Packed up all her stuff and run. Better not to deal with the consequences of her actions, than it is to deal with the nauseating heartache that has forced her to stay up too many nights in a row. She's pretty sure the dark circles under her eyes have become a permanent fixture to her face.

Why does she do this to herself?

"Okay. We've only got fifteen minutes before we have to be at your Mom's." Shelley shoves Lorelai towards the counter as fast as her heeled feet will take her. She really wore her nicest navy floral dress for this. "Let's get our coffee and go."

"Okay, so that gives us five minutes to drink as much coffee as we can before we drive to Hartford. And spend the evening with my Mom berating me for..." Lorelai trails off, eyes darting around the diner. Shelley, behind her, can't stop herself from chewing the hangnail that's been bothering her all evening. Where's Jess to pour the coffee for them?