Page 32 of Pity Play

“It’s not like I thought I was a character in a Jane Austen novel that could spend her spinster years living at home polishing the silver while waiting for an early death from consumption,” I snap at him.

“Of course not, Lorelai.”

Now that he feels bad, I tentatively say, “I don’t suppose you’re looking for a roommate in Chicago.”

“I like living alone.” So much for sympathy.

When he doesn’t say anything else, I know it’s time to cut the call short. “Let me know if you want to visit and see the place before it doesn’t belong to us anymore.”

“I’ll be back,” he says. “I just don’t know when.”

“Okay. Bye.” I hang up before he can respond.

Sitting in my car, I feel like I’m in an episode of my grandfather’s favorite television show. He used to watchThe Twilight Zonewhich was essentially a science fiction program about how nothing is the way you think it is. Which is exactly how my life currently seems. I wouldn’t be too shocked if a portal opened in front of me and I drove into a parallel universe.

I wonder what my life would look like there. Wouldn’t it be nice if I was hugely successful and owned my own home? Maybe even the one I’m currently being evicted from? I might even have an adorable family like Faith and Teddy have. Maybe even a great husband. And once again, my mind creates an image of me and Luke together. But instead of being a couple at the senior prom, we’re adults.

I remind myself that I shouldn’t believe in pipe dreams. I’ve lost my home, my job, and my town, all in one day. And as much as I know I can overcome all of that, I cannot allow hope as big as me and Luke into my life without opening myself up to total devastation.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LUKE

Even though I told my mom to sleep in, I still drive by the house before going into the diner. She’ll probably be cleaning or doing laundry. She has never been the kind of person who can relax in a crisis.

Standing by the front door, I wonder if I should knock or just walk in. I’ve always just walked in, but it’s been so long since I’ve been back, I don’t want to give her a heart attack. Making a fist, I bang on the door three times before taking a step back.

My mom opens the door immediately like she was waiting for someone. “Luke?” She seems surprised it’s me. “Why did you knock?”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Why would I be scared if you walked into your own home?” Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to cut me in half with an invisible laser coming from her corneas. Stepping aside, she gestures for me to enter.

“I haven’t been here in a long time,” I tell her. “It almost doesn’t even feel like my home anymore.”

“Whose fault is that?” she asks harshly.

“Dad’s.”

Shaking her head, my mom walks down the hallway and leads the way into the family room. She sits down on the sofa before telling me, “It’s your dad’s fault that he hasn’t visited you in Chicago. It’s your fault that you haven’t come home.”

How can she see it that way? “Why would I visit someone who’s made it clear they don’t want to see me?” I give her a “talk your way out of that one” look.

My mom shakes her head with enough vigor to cause her graying bob to sway back and forth. “You’re two peas in a pod,” she says.

Excuse me?“I’m nothing like Dad,” I say while sitting on the La-Z-Boy recliner directly across from her.

My mom laughs mirthlessly. “That’s what your dad says. The truth is, you’re both so pig-headed and stubborn you can’t see your own culpability.”

“I’m not responsible for the rift between us,” I tell her. “All I did was follow my dreams, which if I recall correctly is what you and Dad taught me to do.”

“You could have told your dad when you started culinary school that you had no intention of coming back to Elk Lake to work with him.”

She’s not wrong about that. But instead of agreeing with her, I say, “I didn’t tell him because I didn’t know what I wanted to do yet.”

“Lucas Adam Phillips.”

The usage of my full name indicates the amount of trouble I’m in. “How could I have known?”

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