Other Girls of Gilmore Girls: The Lindsay Lister Story

Chapter 24

View Along: S4 E20 Luke Can See Her Face & S4 E21 Last Week Fights, This Week Tights

I put a bagel in the toaster for Dean in the morning. "I'm worried," he told me. I asked him about what and he said he wasn't sure when Tom would have work for him again. The Dragonfly Inn work is almost done, and Tom said there was more work coming, but nothing specific. No days, no rate of pay. "I'll keep working late nights. Make a little extra in case the break between jobs is long."

"I'm tired of the late nights. I'd rather you come home at a regular time, and we wait longer for the townhouse or a second car."

"A second car? Since when?"

I huffed. "Doesn't matter. Whatever. I'd just rather have you home. I'm bored. I miss you."

"I want the extra money right now to be safe. We still have rent."

"I'll get a part-time job!" I offered again. Dean waved it away. He could be frustrating, but at least I knew he still wanted to provide and care for me. He was going to be late, so he left for the day. The morning sun trailed in across our apartment.

***

It was a great morning because Erica finally called me back! She apologized for taking so long to get back to me; they had been busy with all types of things. It was last minute, but she invited Dean and me to go out with her and David that night. Finally, something fun Dean and I could do together. That's what had been missing; we weren't doing anything fun.

I called Dean to ask if he would be done early enough to go out with Erica and David. I could hear men laughing in the background. "Sookie, the chef, fed us all today, so I won't need lunch," he said right after answering the phone.

"No, it's not about lunch. Erica and David invited us out tonight. Will you be done early enough to go? Please say yes," I begged.

Dean took a moment to answer. I stayed silent as I waited.

"If I get done at my usual time, we can go. That would be nice to do." It was the answer I wanted, but it didn't feel good. His voice was flat.

"Ok, well if the work is as close to done as you say it is, I bet you can get out of there one time. Call me to let me know? It's casual! You won't even have to change."

The afternoon and early evening came and went without a call from Dean. I called his phone over and over. No answer. Wasn't he the one who wanted to do normal 19-year-old stuff? He should have been home in time. I got ready to go out with Erica and David anyway. I was going no matter what, and I stopped at the Dragonfly Inn on my way to meet up with them.

Dean was in the hallway, still lifting and hanging and hammering. I guess this is what he did all day. He didn't look close to leaving at all. "We have plans with Erica and David," I reminded him. Dean said he was working.

"Are you, well how shocking," I faked surprise. He kept arguing that he had to work. That he said he told me his answer was only a maybe. That he could go, but these extra hours at work were more important. Work always won out. "Oh come on," I groaned. We weren't any closer to a townhouse anyway, and I'd rather spend the time with him like I told him that morning. "You are so incredibly selfish." I put my hands on my hips as angry as I was. "You never think about me!"

"You want a townhouse? You want a new car? We need money to pay for these things." I needed him. I couldn't say it then though, all I could do was list his faults: he was gone all day, gone all night, didn't call during the day when he said he would, didn't spend time with me when he was home, and we never ever did anything together. "I'm bored, Dean. I want to spend time with my husband. Hello? We are married here."

The best he could do was say maybe he'd be done in two hours. I told him I was going out with Erica and David. He asked what time I would be home, as if he cared. I told him I'd be home when I got home.

He didn't apologize. I didn't apologize. I went out with Erica and David that night, and Dean and I didn't speak about it again.

We didn't speak about anything at all for a day or two. He stopped shaving and grew scruffy. I didn't see him smile. When Dean is silent there is something scary about him. His breadth can be comforting when it is on your side and wrapped around you, but then it becomes uneasy when it is not on your side. It looms over you.

Dean came out of our room wearing a button-down, unbuttoned over a t-shirt. He looked like he had started to get ready to go out, but stopped. He was messy. Like he wasn't getting enough sleep. "I'm going out," he informed me.

"Out where? Can't we go together?"

"Just out," he said and was out the door. But: out where?

My body told me to run. Run after him. Run away. I didn't know what to do, so I called Abby. Voicemail. I called again. Over and over. I texted her. I need to talk. I looked at my phone every few minutes. Nothing. I tried calling Dean, and it didn't even ring. He turned his phone off or let it die. Finally Abby's name flashed on the front of my phone. I flipped it open and frantically answered.

Her college was an hour away, and she opened my apartment door exactly an hour after she called. "I'm sort of freaking out," I admitted immediately, although I'm sure she already knew that. "Dean is not happy. He's weird most of the time. Quiet sometimes. Distant others. He won't tell me anything about what's going on with him. How am I supposed to know?"

"Ok. So what about you?"

"Me?" I hadn't thought about me. "I'm fine except for Dean rarely being here, not doing anything with me, and being in a bad mood." I was fine except for Dean, wasn't I? "I like being married. I think I'm doing really good at it. Dean? I'm afraid he doesn't like it. Abby, that scares me."

Abby scooted closer to me on the couch and held my arm. "Hey. You guys are young. Of course it's hard. What are you going to do about it?"

I wanted to protest. I couldn't do anything! Dean was too hard for me to figure out. Or was it that I wasn't doing as good of a job at being married as I thought I was. I didn't know what to say. "I think you need to talk to him," Abby suggested.

"That's obvious. But still difficult," I sighed. I'd do it. I'd talk to him, and I'd be a better wife. "Where is he, anyway?" Abby asked, looking around the dark and still apartment.

"Out," I said in the same tone Dean said it earlier.

We ended up watching a reality show that was on TV. The episodes played one after the other; it was about a celebrity couple that were recently married. They fuddled through regular daily activities, made mistakes, got into fights, and moved their furniture around the house. They went on trips and disagreed about every detail beforehand. I tried to find how Dean was similar to the husband. Then I tried to see how I could be like the wife. I fell asleep on the couch, and so did Abby. Then Dean came home.

"Oh, hi," he said when the sound of the door closing woke us. "Hi Abby."

"I should get going," she yawned. I invited her to stay the rest of the night instead of driving back to college so late. Dean agreed, and Abby slept on our couch. Dean and I went into the bedroom and fell asleep without saying a word.