Gilmore Girls: Wish Upon a Snow

Chapter 27

Lorelei sighed as she pulled her phone away from her ear. Rory had not even said goodbye, which had irritated her. After sliding her cell phone in her pocket, Lorelei made her way towards the foyer to grab her coat. Just as she grabbed the door handle to leave, her phone began buzzing in her pocket.

"Hello?" Lorelei barked, her irritation evident.

"Hey, Lor." A warm voice crinkled across the line.

Lorelei looked at her phone screen, narrowing her eyes. Christopher, it read.

"Oh, Chris. Hey! I'm sorry."

"That's fine, Lor. Are you doing okay?" Chris' voice was reassuring, and Lorelei felt instantly at ease.

"Oh my God, Chris," Lorelei exhaled.

"What's wrong?"

"Chris...Luke is missing," she said. Lorelei felt a huge weight being lifted from her chest. She walked out on to the porch. The late afternoon sun reflected off of her Jeep.

"What do you mean, he is missing? Like missing?" his voice was full of concern.

"I guess, yeah," Lorelei felt her breath catch in her throat, the realization that something terrible really could have happened to Luke dawning on her at last. She began to cry.

"Lor, Lor. Don't cry. What is going on? The police know, right?"

"Yes. I filed a missing persons' report."

"Okay. Do you need reward money? You know I am happy to donate whatever you need. What about a flier? I have a guy in Boston who is just awesome with those kinds of things. I will shoot him an email right now to get on that."

"Chris, I don't know. I am not very good at this kind of stuff. I don't know how much money I am supposed to offer...or what I am even supposed to do. Should I be out? Driving around? It's been days. He is a grown man. I am not looking for some little girl with pigtails and a pink bicycle who didn't come home after school."

"Sheesh, Lor. A little dark. There is no possible way he could've gone somewhere to blow off some steam? The beach maybe?"

"Luke isn't big on the beach."

"Doesn't he like outdoorsy things? Fishing? I don't know...bear catching? Hiking? What do outdoorsy people in Connecticut do?"

"He does like fishing, but why would he go fishing on our wedding night and then not come back? That doesn't make sense!"

"Well," Chris began, his voice becoming more gentle, "What if he did go fishing and drowned?"

"Drowned?! What the hell is wrong with you, Chris?"

"I'm sorry, Lor. I'm just trying to help. Quent, my graphics guy, he is on the flier. I will put up the reward money. I don't always know the right things to say...but I want to do whatever I can. I hate to see you like this."

Lorelei felt herself begin to soften. "Thank you, Chris."

With a click, he was gone.

Lorelei made her way towards the Jeep, blinking in the light. She had been sporadic about being at the inn, and she had a pile of paperwork she needed to take care of before the weekend. Michel had sent her several texts over the past few days, harassing her about the issue of hiring a chef.
The drive to the inn was uneventful, though Lorelei could feel that her senses had heightened somehow. Every turn she rounded she could feel her eyes dart and jump, searching for a hint of a plaid shirt or a glimpse of something amiss. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for.

"There you are," Michel barked, beckoning her over to the front desk. His voice was thick with both his luscious French accent and unmistakable irritation.
"I'm so sorry, Michel. There's been so much going on at home," Lorelei began, her heels clicking on the wood floors as she approached the desk.
"Stop. I am not looking for all the sordid details of your lovers' quarrel. I'm looking for your help," he snapped.
Lorelei stared at him.
"Good," he went on smoothly, "I have your attention for once. This chef problem has to end, now. The food is apparently 'not the same' or something equally nostalgic at Luke's since...you know. We are getting overflow from that and I just simply cannot deal with this rotating chicken of cooks coming in and out."

Lorelei blinked. "Rotating chicken...?"

"Chicken, door, whatever," Michel scoffed.

Lorelei realized what he was trying to say. "Do you mean revolving door?"

Michel glared at her. "The point is, we have nothing. Luke is not around to help out." Michel paused as visible pain fluttered across Lorelei's face. He took a breath and continued, "These pop-out chefs or whatever you people call them are not working, and I am not sure what else to do. I need to focus on the spa annex but I cannot until we get this situation figured out."

Lorelei sighed. "What do you suggest that we do, then?"

"I suggest you call Sookie." Michele passed her the phone and folded his hands on the desktop, staring at her expectantly.