Pairing: R/T…eventually
Rating: PG, if that
Spoilers: Up to and including the season 2 episode "Run Away Little Boy."
Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.
Please Mr. Postman
By Grace
November 29, 2001
Dear Mary,
Sorry, I couldn't help myself! Anyway, here I am in North Carolina. The weather is definitely better than Connecticut, but that's about the only good thing. Military school isn't all that different from Chilton, aside from the lack of girls and the fact that they made me cut my hair. Living in a dorm room—which I have to share—isn't exactly my thing either.
You're probably sitting there, rolling your eyes, and pointing out the fact that I brought this all on myself. You would be right in that respect, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. You may also be wondering why I'm writing to you, or perhaps you're just stunned that I know how to spell more than just my own name.
The truth is it's pretty lonely down here. Somehow, none of the other Chiltonites seem worth writing to—I'm not sure all of them can read. J Anyway, I hope you don't mind. I thought that when I left things were pretty much okay between us, so I took the chance that you might write back. In any respect, I figured you'd have more interesting things to talk about than who Louise is going with to the next dance.
I know that this is short, but I didn't want to kill too many trees on the off chance you burned this letter immediately upon seeing my name in the return address.
Take care of yourself, Rory. I'd love to hear from you.
Tristan
* * *
December 4, 2001
Dear Tristan,
You're right, I was surprised to hear from you, and I have to admit, there was some initial eye-rolling involved. But hey, I didn't burn the letter!
I'm actually writing this in the Chilton cafeteria. I doubt Headmaster Charleston would think writing a letter is any more sociable than reading a book, but that's his problem, not mine.
Not too much has changed since you left, although no one calls me Mary and Paris has thawed her Ice Queen act a little bit. She even gave me a good assignment for the paper this week. Speaking of Paris, she went on a date this weekend. I'm not sure who with—I think his name is Nathan or something. I guess all she needed to get over you was to have you shipped several hundred miles away! So much for the theory "absence makes the heart grow fonder."
Incidentally, I have no idea who Louise is going to the dance with, since she'll probably date ten guys between now and then.
I don't know any other Chilton gossip, and somehow writing about the big history assignment doesn't seem very interesting. I guess the only thing left to do is tell you about the exciting world of Stars Hollow. (By the way, you might want to try reading this if you're suffering from insomnia.)
Now that it's December, the town is getting geared up for Christmas. As usual, Taylor (he owns the grocery store) is spearheading the charge. He wants all of the downtown business owners to put red and green twinkle lights around their windows and awnings. Luke (the diner owner) refused, just like he does every year. Apparently, Taylor decided to take matters into his own hands, and Saturday night, after the diner closed, he put up the lights around Luke's himself. Suffice it to say that Luke was more than a little angry. He wanted to tear them down right away, but my mom—who was there getting coffee—convinced him that since they were already there and he hadn't had to do the work, it wouldn't hurt to leave them up. The whole town breathed a collective sigh of relief, but it didn't end there. Much to his astonishment, when Taylor got to the grocery store Monday morning, he discovered that all the red and green bulbs had been replaced with orange and black ones. Most people thought it was pretty funny, especially Luke. No one's owned up to it yet, but we're all convinced that Luke's nephew, Jess, played the prank. Dean, unfortunately, was less than thrilled, since Taylor made him change out all the bulbs. I'm getting the distinct impression that Dean doesn't like Jess very much.
Other than that, it was a pretty quiet weekend. "Quiet" is, naturally, a relative term, since my mom blasting Aerosmith at 7 a.m. does not technically fall within the bounds of the definition, but it's also not an unusual occurrence for us. The fact that it was Aerosmith was a little weird…
Well, there's the bell, so I need to get to class. Tell me more about North Carolina!
Rory
* * *
December 11, 2001
Dear Rory,
Sorry it's taken me a little while to write back, but things have been pretty crazy. Finals are coming up, so I'm sure you understand.
Your letter was great. The part about the Christmas lights had me cracking up. I'm pretty sure my roommate now thinks I'm insane. Oh well, he's probably right! I can't imagine living in a place like Stars Hollow. It sounds like one big family. I'm not even sure I know the names of our next door neighbors in Hartford. How did you and your mom end up there, anyway?
North Carolina is beautiful, although they don't let us off campus much, so I haven't really gone exploring. The school I'm at is pretty close to the coast, and I'm hoping to make it down there soon.
There's really not too much to tell. My life consists almost entirely of eating, sleeping, studying, and going to class. Honestly, though, it's a nice change of pace from my "debonair playboy" lifestyle back in Hartford. Nobody here seems to care where I'm from, who my parents are, or how many square feet our estate has. I've only ever known one other person who was like that. Can you guess who it is?
So Paris is dating, huh? Tell her I'm happy for her. No, strike that, because then she'd want to know how you know, and I don't want my pen pal murdered.
Now, I don't usually go in much for sappy and sentimental (I am a guy), but it really means a lot to me that you wrote back. After the way I treated you so much of the time, I wouldn't have blamed you for blowing me off. I am sorry for all of that—if I could go back and change things, I would.
We now return to our regularly scheduled cocky Tristan…
So what are you and your mom doing for the holidays? I can hardly believe that Christmas is only two weeks away. Do you get together with your grandparents, or just stay in Stars Hollow?
I should probably go. We have PT at 5 a.m., and it's getting late. Write soon, and if I don't "talk" to you before then, have a merry Christmas.
Tristan
* * *
December 16, 2001
Dear Tristan,
Arrrrggghh! Well, now that that's out of my system… I'm not sure what it is about the holidays, but all the people in my life have suddenly gone insane! Or at least, more insane. Please tell me you haven't been afflicted by the same malady. Personally, I blame it on the eggnog. There must be something in it besides…eggs and nog. (Seriously, what is that stuff made of?)
First things first—Dean and I broke up. Again. For good. And I swear to God, if you're down in North Carolina smirking and doing a happy dance, I will know and I will come down there and, uh, do something really bad! But back to reality. I was the dumper this time, not the dumpee. Is that an improvement? I just couldn't take any more of the overprotective jealousy routine. You saw how he was around you, and he's just as bad when it comes to Luke's nephew Jess. I'm pretty much the only friend Jess has in this town, and I know Dean resents that. Then, at the annual Stars Hollow Christmas Festival of Lights (which is our little way of celebrating both the Christian and Jewish traditions), Jess and I got caught under some mistletoe. The whole town was goading us to kiss, so we did. It was no big deal, just a tiny peck on the lips, but I thought Dean was going to go all homicidal on Jess. Or at the very least, behead some hapless snowman or reindeer. I managed to calm him down before any bodily harm was inflicted. The next day, though, he tried to convince me that I shouldn't be friends with Jess. That's when I dumped him. What a control freak. I think I'm swearing off men.
But enough about my love life, or lack thereof. I'm sure it's boring you to tears. You asked some questions in your last letter, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to answer to them.
My mom and I came to Stars Hollow when I was just a baby. Basically, I think she wanted to be somewhere that was the least like her parents' house in Hartford, and Stars Hollow filled the bill. Mia, the woman who owns the Independence Inn, gave my mom a job as a maid, and even let us live on the property in this little cottage/shed for a while. It wasn't much, but it was enough. My mom has worked her way up over the years, and now she runs the inn. Of course, she and her best friend Sookie (the chef at the inn—she's the most amazing cook) want to open their own inn, but I'm not exactly sure when that's going to happen.
You're right in that Stars Hollow is really like one big extended family. At least half the people here helped raise me. I guess you could say they sort of adopted us. Sometimes that can be a pain, because everybody knows everybody else's business (just like a real family), but most of the time I love it. I can't imagine living anywhere else, at least not right now.
As for Christmas, it's definitely coming up fast. Are you coming home for the holidays? My mom and I will spend Christmas Eve with my grandma and grandpa in Hartford, but Christmas day we'll stay in Stars Hollow. Every year, my mom drags Luke and I out to the woods and makes him help us cut down the perfect Christmas tree. We just got ours yesterday, and it's beautiful. The whole house smells like a pine forest. We were up until three in the morning decorating the tree, because we put about eight billion lights on, and of course my mom has to tell the story of every single ornament we own. She insists on keeping the really ugly ones that I made in first grade and are covered with glitter—they go on the tree every year, although I try to hide them towards the back when she's not paying attention. We tried to string popcorn and cranberries this year, but my mom kept eating the popcorn, so the garland ended up being mostly cranberries. (She tried to convince me that using Craisins would be easier, but I put my foot down.) It looks pretty, though. Christmas day we'll open up all our presents at five a.m., and then go back to bed. In the afternoon, Sookie, Jackson, Luke, Jess, Lane, Babette, Maury, Miss Patty, Taylor, Kirk, and Michel will all come over for dinner. I think mom invited grandma and grandpa this year, too. Mom spikes the eggnog when no one is looking, and Sookie usually ends up standing on the couch singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs. The town Troubadour might come by in the evening to serenade us, too. We all exchange little presents (okay, they're supposed to be little, but they never are). Around nine o'clock, the eggnog will finally get to Miss Patty, who will start flirting even more aggressively with Luke…although this year, she might have a new target in Jess. Anyway, the party will probably start to break up then, and when everyone else is gone, mom, Sookie, Lane, and I will crash out in the living room and watch It's a Wonderful Life until we fall asleep. It's predictable and a little crazy, but it's a lot of fun.
You're probably sick of my babbling, and finals start tomorrow, so I have to finish studying. Have a Merry Christmas.
Rory
* * *
To be continued…