Other Girls of Gilmore Girls: The Lindsay Lister Story

Chapter 15

View Along: S3 E22 Those are Strings Pinocchio

Graduating seniors ended school two weeks before everyone else. Dean was already set to work extra shifts at Doose's Market and with Tom, the contractor he had done odd jobs for before. We would need all the money we could get. On Wednesdays, my parents played cards with another couple, so Dean would come over if he had the time. Sometimes he would only have a short break from Doose's, and he would run over, sweaty and flush, and press me against a wall with his kisses. One time I had his pants unbuttoned before we were even inside, Dean pulling me to the ground in the entry. "I couldn't love you more," he said as he ran back to work.

After everything else, graduation seemed like such a small event. Dean and I were engaged adults, but we still had to go through this teenager ceremony with everyone. We moved our tassels to the side, looking down the row of seats at each other. We were voted the cutest couple of our graduating class, and the yearbook editors gave us an entire page.

Our parents held a joint graduation party, as a way to get to know each other and to prepare for the eventual wedding. I overheard someone say something about how it was crazy that our parents were fine with us getting married, and I felt bad for them that they didn't have lives that they wanted to get started on right away. Dean was going to go to Southern Connecticut State, and I would go there with him. He had applied for family housing, but right after the guests left our graduation party, he pulled me to the side. "They don't offer any on campus family housing," he said, sounding worried.

"Everyone said colleges offered family housing," I protested.

"That doesn't change it," Dean sighed. "We will have to find a one-bedroom somewhere to rent."

"Closer to school or here in Stars Hollow? I can start looking tomorrow so you don't have to." We hadn't even planned a wedding; we didn't even have a date, but the idea of not living together immediately wasn't a possibility. We needed each other. We had to breathe each other in every day.

I used an apartment searching website to price out apartments near Southern Connecticut. They were expensive. Like, really expensive. Stars Hollow landlords didn't advertise online, so I walked around town and looked for rent signs. I called a few; they were cheaper. Stars Hollow was about a 45-minute drive to school, and I was sure Dean wouldn't mind if it meant we could save around $400 a month.

"This one?" I said, taking him for a walk past one. He didn't say anything. "It's affordable I think?"

"Do you, or do we even know what affordable is?" Dean grabbed my hand as we stared at the door of the duplex. I conceded, "it has two bedrooms. We don't even need a second bedroom. Let's find a one-bedroom place instead," I negotiated with no one. What we were entering?

Apartment hunting was terrifying, but wedding planning was fantastic. My parents were paying for the whole thing, and we had decided to hold it in town. Dean had an in with Taylor Doose, working at his market and all, and could secure the town center and gazebo any weekend we wanted. Even if someone else had dibs, Taylor would bump them for us.

We chose early fall because it was enough time to plan something that resembled the wedding we wanted, but quick enough that we could have it out of the way by the time Dean started college. He would be starting college a married man. And I would... what?

My original plan was to travel a little, read a bit, see things, take it in, live it, and love it. I would have to do all of that minus the traveling. I would read, see things, take it in, build a lovely home for Dean, support Dean, live it, and love it. I could do that.

Dean would come over a few times a week to go over wedding details with me and my parents, but I suspected he didn't care that much. My mom asked once if he was planning on cutting his hair, and I shushed her quickly. Not only was that rude, but Dean was looking good as he let his hair grow long.

At the end of a planning session, Dean pulled a catalog out of his back pocket. "Here. Pick what you want."

"What's this?" I asked, flipping through the pages. It was pretty obvious that it was full of kitchen appliances and home goods, but I had asked the question before I looked.

"We can pick wedding gifts out of it," he told me.

"Oh, for a registry or something?"

"Sure."

He was being a little short and disinterested. I gave him a soft smile, hoping for an equally soft kiss, but he said a quiet goodbye and left. I flipped the pages of the catalog again. I tried to imagine us in a house, a real house with all of these appliances and cookware. Each page hinted at what could be. I pictured the food I would make for us. Dean helping to clear the dishes while I washed the salad spinner. I flipped the catalog over. It was addressed to Squeegee Beckenheim.

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