Title: When She Cries
Book: II
Chapter: Twenty-Four
Chapter Title: Best Defense
Rating: R.
Disclaimer: Aye, captain. I hold no
deeds to Gilmore Girls. And I don’t own matchbox twenty’s Argue.
Author’s Note: To the usual. Kait, Ashley, Summer, Lauren, Roxy, Jamie,
Nate and Gracie. I’m sure I’m missing some.
*
We get along/So we shouldn't argue.
Casual observation wasn’t exactly
the best method for diagnosing obsessive-compulsive disorder. It was a pity
too, since Augusta was quite sure that the man sitting at the table by the
window had it. Not to mention the fact that she was not yet qualified or, more
importantly, certified to make such a diagnosis. She was jolted back to the
present when she was tapped on the elbow by an ordering pad.
“Aggie?”
She looked over at her Uncle Luke.
“Yes?”
“While
I’m sure the view out there is pretty,” Luke gestured to the window. “The customer
at the end of the counter is getting awfully hungry while you’re over here
holding his plate.”
Right. Despite the fact that it
should, psychology did not rule people’s lives. There were other things to do.
Like serve food. “Okay.”
Her great-uncle just grunted and
went back into the kitchen area. She went and set the food on the end of the
counter.
“Took you long enough, Aggie-lass.”
There was that familiar Irish brogue.
Well now she didn’t feel so bad
about taking so long to get the food over there. “What are you doing here?”
“Eating supper,” he replied, picking
up his burger and taking a bite out of it. “We’re out of groceries again.”
“You might be shocked to learn
what’s just down the street then. Not to mention lots of other places in
Hartford,” Aggie began. “They’re called grocery stores and supermarket. You buy
food and stock them in your cupboards.”
“My food is cold, can I complain?”
Aggie tugged on the sleeves to her
black sweater. “No.”
“Don’t fret, Donnie is food shopping
this time,” Fin moved onto his fries. “You look very lovely as a waitress.”
Please, she smelt like fried food
and there was a mustard stain on the hem of her sweater. “You’re rather full of
it today, Fin.”
“Isn’t he every day?” Another voice
added.
“Thank you Lola,” Aggie told her as
Lola set her jacket down on the stool next to Fin’s. “I knew I could count on
you to be wise.”
“Can I count on you to get me an
order that had been placed earlier?” Lola returned, readjusting her pink knit
sweater. Jackets always screwed up clothing placement. It was so annoying.
“It’s for Gilmore.”
“At your mother’s this weekend?” Fin
asked as Aggie went out back to the kitchen.
Lola nodded. “Not even icy roads can
stop a custody right. Or something like that.” She wrinkled her nose at the
food on his plate. “Can’t imagine eating anything more gross. Or working here.
I’d say I don’t understand why the Mariano children decide to spend their
holiday breaks working here, but I’m sure the answer has something to do with
family loyalty.”
“No, mine has to do with money,”
Aggie spoke up as she reemerged with a box of bagged food. “And being able to
pay bills when I return to my apartment, since I don’t work at my regular job
when I’m here.”
“Ah, think of all you’re missing at
your normally exciting job at Chuck E. Cheese’s.”
Aggie narrowed her eyes at Lola.
“Shut up. It’s great for observing human behavior.”
“So is sex, but I don’t see you out
doing that,” Lola looked between Fin and Aggie. “Oh wait…”
“Jamie tell you?” Augusta sighed
resignedly.
Lola nodded. “The girl is an endless
source of knowledge when I call. Unlike Clay, who just tells me that you’re not
there but he’ll have you call me back.”
“I never saw you as the prying
type,” Fin spoke up; he’d been watching the encounter thoughtfully.
“I’m not,” Lola shrugged as she put
her jacket back on. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t accept what is simply
offered.”
Of course Lola didn’t. She never
knew what would fall in her lap that she could use for her. Aggie would have to
remember to mark that down in her notebook later. “I’ll accept the
twenty-two-fifty that this paper says you’re going to offer.”
Lola rolled her eyes as she paid for
the food. “Didn’t Freud put himself on the couch at one point in his career?”
She backed away from the counter. “Because you might want to consider starting
early.”
Augusta thought it was better if she
didn’t reply to that comment and simply let Lola leave.
“That is amazing will power,” Fin
commented as soon as Lola had exited the diner. “I can see all the replies
going across your eyes.”
She blinked. “Like a ticker?”
“Um, sure.” Whatever the hell that
was.
Augusta needed to refocus. What she was
thinking…so not an option. And she was spacing. This would only lead to bad
things. Next thing you’d know she’d be holed up in her apartment watching
SoapNet, thinking she didn’t deserve to be watching General Hospital,
when she probably did. Egad, she was in a queer mood tonight.
“What time do you get out?” Fin was
asking.
“Six,” another absent answer. Focus.
She needed to focus.
“You want to see a movie
afterwards?” Fin took her chin in between his fingers and made her look at him.
“I’ve rented Spinning Dickens.”
“Where?” Aggie was not going to
suggest this. She really wasn’t. But why not? Hell, even Devon had gotten a
clue and was finally getting romantic with Ashley. Next thing you knew Dallie
wouldn’t find Lola attractive. Right, that’d be the day. Everyone found Lola
attractive.
“My apartment. Are you okay?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Yes, I’m
fine. No, to your apartment. We should watch it…” This was not coming out of
her mouth. “At my house.”
So it had come out. Aggie sighed; it
was probably best she started facing reality anyway. Last thing any one wanted
was a psychiatrist that suffered from delusions.
*
It was almost a laughable contrast
seeing her too-prim granddaughter holding food from Luke’s, Lorelai thought as
she opened the door. Really. She had the perfectly straight hair, with the
perfectly ironed clothes, and despite the fact that it had been snowing out,
Lola didn’t have a speck of snow her. Lorelai would love to know how she
managed that one.
“This is gross,” Lola said by way of
greeting, handing Lorelai the food. “And hot.”
“And greasy,” Lorelai said before
Lola could add it to her list of complaints.
Lola nodded as she took off her
gloves and jacket. “That too.”
“How much was it?” She asked as she set
the food down on the coffee table.
“Don’t worry about,” Lola sank down
on the couch. “It was just, like, twenty.”
That would seem like petty
change to a girl that was the sole heiress to millions of dollars, now wouldn’t
it? “As long as you’re sure.”
“It’s nothing.” She leaned forward
and opened one of the bags. Jack pot. She pulled out the salad Luke had packed
in there for her.
Lorelai tsk-ed and shook her head.
“Such a waste, Lo. Be adventurous.”
“I don’t think so,” she disagreed.
“I’ll save it for when the junk food comes.”
That reminded Lorelai. “Your mother
is picking up the rentals, and some nachos with cheese.”
“I love nachos with cheese,” they
were one of Lola’s excesses.
“No,” Lorelai dragged out the word
dramatically, and fell on the couch beside Lola. “And we were really hoping to
get something you hate, too.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Lorelai pushed on Lola’s shoulder. “Brat.”
Yeah, she was. Lola took another
bite of her salad before speaking again. “What are we renting?”
“Whatever Rory chooses for us.” That
didn’t sound to promising.
She groaned. “Does that mean we’re
going to be stuck watching three hours of the adaptation to Fall On Your
Knees? The book is good, but it starts to lose its luster when you watch
the screen version.”
“Don’t they all?” Lorelai rummaged
through the bags, looking for her own dinner.
Of course, but sometimes the
shallowness of screen was a lot better than the inner monologues of real human
beings.