Epilogue: Fifty Years

"How do you put this stupid thing together? It's like you have to be an engineer to figure this stuff out. Why can't they just put all the parts in the box and give you simple instructions in English? But no, you have to put tube H into ring A and attach tube H with a bolt. But it doesn't tell you which bolt, which is kind of importance because they give you four different sizes of bolts!"

Lorelai threw up one hand in surrender. In her other, she held her cell phone to her ear as she ranted.

"I'm sure they give you a picture or a diagram or something," her daughter suggested.

"The picture isn't any help at all! It shows all the pieces, but they're not in place, and there are arrows pointing all over with numbers and bolts. Did I mention the bolts? Four different sizes. And everything has to be tightened with this little metal thing that I can't even find…"

Over the phone, she heard Rory laugh at her plight. "Just let Luke do it, Mom. You shouldn't be assembling anything in your condition anyway."

"Let Luke do it. That's a great idea!" Chucking tube H and the bolts she was holding into a pile, Lorelai stood up and headed into the kitchen. Rory's comment on her 'condition' suddenly reminded her that she was hungry.

One of the perks to being pregnant, she had rediscovered, was that she could pretty much eat whatever she wanted. Not that she didn't eat whatever she wanted before she got pregnant, but Luke rarely lectured her about her food choices anymore. Of course, it helped that most of her cravings involved fresh fruit and vegetables, which Luke had been trying to get her to eat since the day they met. He had, however, strong reservations about letting her drink caffeinated coffee. It was a continuing battle.

Picking up a peach from the bowl on the table, she headed into the living room. "So how's the campaign trail? Is our boy Obama gonna be president?"

"Hard to say, Mom. This is just the primaries. And I thought you were voting for Hillary."

"I'm voting for Kirk," Lorelai declared.

"As in 'Captain'?"

"As in Kirk – our Kirk. The town Kirk."

"Kirk's running for president?" Rory asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, rather than try to do every job known to man, he decided to just start at the top and work his way down. First president, then vice president…" Lorelai's sentence trailed off as she heard the front door. "Oh, I think someone's here."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know." Shouting, she called, "Is somebody-?"

Luke stepped into the room before she could finish. Spotting a bag of Al's Pancake World takeout in his hand, she immediately sprang off the couch.

"It's Luke! He's home early and he brought me food."

"Bye Mom. Tell Luke 'hi' for me."

"Will do." Hanging up the phone, she informed him, "Rory says 'hi'."

"How's she doing?" he inquired. He headed for the kitchen to put the take-out on the table. Despite Lorelai's repeated entries that plastic cartons on the coffee table constituted a perfectly acceptable dining experience, he still insisted on real dishes at the kitchen table. And because he did most of the cooking (ok, all of the cooking), she let him have his way.

"She's exhausted. She works constantly, the hours are a nightmare, and her editor is really hard to please."

"So she's having a great time?" he surmised.

"The best," Lorelai confirmed. "She's meeting new people, visiting new places. I think it's the best thing that could have happened to her."

As he began scooping their dinner onto separate plates, Luke noticed her previously abandoned project spread across the floor in Rory's old room. "What's all that?" he demanded.

"Oh, nothing." She got up to close the door before she settled down to dinner.

"Were you trying to put that thing together?"

Guiltily, she lied, "No."

Not believing her, he responded, "I told you I'd put it together."

"I've been here all afternoon with nothing to do. I thought I'd give it a shot."

With Zach on tour and Lane needing so much time to take care of the babies, Luke had been staying late at the diner most nights and going in on weekends. Sometimes Lorelai would help out after she got off work at the Dragonfly, but Luke worried about her being on her feet too much. Or lifting heavy objects – well, lifting anything, really. His concern was kind of sweet when it wasn't driving her crazy.

"I'm pregnant, not an invalid," she said.

"Has being pregnant suddenly endowed you with the skill to assemble complex scientific instruments?" he asked, taking a bite of his own food.

Pouting, she admitted, "No, it hasn't."

"Then let me put it together."

"Why'd we have to get April a huge telescope as a present anyway?"

Dishing another helping onto her plate, Luke responded, "Because that's what she said she wanted. She's only coming to visit for a couple of weeks and I asked her if there was anything she wanted to do for fun while we were here-"

"Besides spend time with her dad and lovely new step-mother?" Lorelai interrupted.

"Besides that. And she said she wants to take up astronomy."

"So you went out and bought her the biggest, most complicated telescope you could find?" she inquired.

Luke defended, "It's the one the guy at the store recommended."

"Cause it costs as much as a small car," she quipped.

"And he said the assembly is minimum. April wants to study the stars. How am I supposed to say no to that?"

Lorelai smiled at him and his enthusiasm for pleading his daughter. She said, "These kids, can't teach 'em anything. When I was her age I wanted clothes and music."

"What about Rory?" he asked knowingly.

"Well, Rory wanted books," Lorelai conceded. "Lot's of books. When she was little, I thought maybe she wanted so many to make a castle out of them. Or a fort. Imagine my surprise when I found out she was actually reading them!"

"Imagine that," commented Luke dryly. "Well, I'm pretty sure April wants this to look at the sky, but you can hold out hope she only wants it to spy on the neighbors."

"Oh, she probably learned a long time ago that you really don't need to spy on the neighbors. You can just go ask Miss Patty. She can tell you anything you want to know."

"Or Babette," he interjected.

"Speaking of progeny and the rumor mill, did you give any thought to when you want to…" She let the question trail off. They had recently had a heated discussion on this very topic, and she had learned to let him process before throwing him into another full-fledged conversation about something controversial.

"Not yet."

"Okay, but in a few months I'm going to start showing," she pointed out.

Luke countered, "Then in a few months we can tell everyone. I'm just not ready to be at the center of town gossip again."

Understanding his position, Lorelai nodded. Aside from Rory, they had kept the news of her pregnancy to themselves, although they planned to tell April when she came to visit. The early sonograms had gone well, and the doctor saw no signs of anything wrong. But she knew that Luke agreed with the practice of not making a general announcement until the second trimester, just in case the worst should happen in those first risky months. His caution sometimes annoyed her a little, but in this matter, she was willing to defer to him.

While she had no qualms with telling all their friends, she knew she would also have to tell her mother. Ever since Rory had headed out into the big wide world, she and Luke had continued to go to Friday Night dinners. And the dinners were going well. Everything was status quo. Lorelai did, however, dread giving her mother fodder for an entire discourse on shotgun weddings, not to mention that once the baby arrived, Emily and Richard would have an entirely new grandchild to dote on and attempt to spoil.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you," Luke mentioned as he cleared the table. He felt in the pockets of his pant and his shirt before saying, "I think I left it in the truck. I'll be right back."

As he disappeared out the back door, Lorelai smiled after him. Things had been going well in the two months since their spontaneous wedding, better than she had thought possible. He had moved in immediately, bringing with him all his things. Somehow, his essence managed to transform her house into their house. And to her surprise, having him there did not feel strange at all. No man had ever belonged in her house the way Luke did. He knew all of its secrets, all its nooks and crannies and eccentric quirks.

Having him there felt right – unbelievably right. She slept better, she ate better. Even Paul Anka found things less frightening with Luke around. And she was happy. Truly happy. Luke provided a sense of contentment she had only ever felt when Rory was growing up. He was more than a lover or a husband – he was her family.

Appearing again through the back door, Luke approached her side of the table. But rather than ask her to stand or lower himself into the chair next to her, he dropped down to one knee beside her. "I think this is how this is done…" he murmured, holding out a small velvet box.

"Luke-" she began.

"Just open it."

Inside the box she found the most beautiful wedding ring she had ever seen. It was simple and elegant, but it also had character and style. There were diamonds sprinkled around the setting, but at the center was a sparkling sapphire cut so that it would glitter brightly no matter how she turned her hand.

"Luke, it's wonderful," she announced. "This is what you had made for me?"

"Yeah, well, Liz helped a lot. And… it's engraved."

Removing the ring from its box, Lorelai turned it so she could read the inside.

All in – now and forever.

Beside the words were two scripted L's, elegantly intertwined.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked up at him. "Luke…" she said again softly, unable to express her feelings in words.

Still on one knee, he said, "I know this is kind of late, but I really wanted to do it this way the first time. Tradition and all that. Not that you're all that big on tradition, or I am really, but sometimes it's nice, so… Lorelai, will you be my wife?"

Laughing at the absurd question, she glanced down at the ring in her hand. She was ashamed to admit, she had gained more experience with engagement and wedding rings than she ever thought she would, first with Max's antique engagement ring, then the one she was certain Luke bought from Kirk, and finally the disturbingly expensive rock that Christopher had bought her. Compared to all those, this ring was exquisite. And it had one attribute that no other ring in the world could boast – the man kneeling before her had designed it and had it made especially for her.

Slipping the ring onto the third finger of her left hand, she lifted it in admiration. "I don't know…" she teased, "I may have to think about that."

"Ah, jeez," Luke muttered as he got up from the one-knee-bent position.

"I mean, this is really sudden and it's an awfully big decision," she continued.

"Come here crazy lady," he said. Reaching for her hands, he pulled her out of her chair and flush against him. Needing no encouragement, Lorelai wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met in a passionate kiss.

As they parted just enough to gaze at one another, she smiled brightly. "Okay, why not? I'll marry you."

"Does this mean we have to get married again?" Luke asked, suddenly wondering if she wanted a wedding she could plan – white dress, flower arrangements, and so on. He had, after all, sprung their wedding on her rather suddenly.

By way of response, she asked, "Well, how sure are we that marriage license Taylor signed is good?"

"I checked with the clerk of the court just to be sure, and they said it's fine."

"Okay, then I guess one wedding is enough," Lorelai decided. "Although, maybe we could do a vow renewal ceremony in a few years."

Remembering the one and only vow renewal ceremony he had ever been to and its disastrous aftermath, Luke shook his head. "No vow renewals. They have no legal justification, and they're just an excuse to throw a big party. If you want a big party, then we'll throw a big party. But we're not doing a 'vow renewal'."

Pouting, Lorelai attempted to compromise, "What about in twenty years?"

Luke sighed. "In twenty years, we can talk about it," he allowed, knowing full well that the woman before him could probably talk him into anything she pleased.

"What about fifty years? Will you marry me again in fifty years?" she badgered.

Rolling his eyes, Luke finally gave in. "Fine, in fifty years, I'll do the vow renewal thing."

"It's a date," she asserted. "Fifty years."

The End