Page 47 of Pity Play

“I worked the desk at the spa at Water’s Edge.”

“Swanky.” I’ve always wanted to stay at that hotel, but I really have no reason to be in Madison.

“It was fine.” She doesn’t sound too excited.

“What did your boyfriend do?”

“Michael was in banking.” She adds, “I think his friends looked down on me for doing what they considered a blue-collar kind of job.”

“There’s nothing blue collar about Water’s Edge,” I tell her. I can’t help but wonder if Michael also thought she wasn’t meeting her potential. Maybe he was embarrassed by her. While I don’t know this for sure, I feel disgust brewing in me.

“Their girlfriends and wives were the kind of people who went to the spa. They would never work at one.”

“Some professional people look down on restaurant workers, too,” I tell her.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? I mean, if people are filling a demand, you’d think you’d appreciate them.” She adds, “Michael wasn’t that fancy, but he liked to hold himself up above others. Almost like other people’s lack of success made him feel better about himself.”

“Did he do that with you?”

She considers my question closely before answering, “He didn’t say as much, but I still knew he would have preferred if I did something else. The thing is that I want to work to live, not the other way around. There’s so much more to life than your job. Michael never seemed to think that.”

My fists clench in anger. If the guy was sitting here, I might notbe able to keep myself from punching him. “Why were you ever with someone like that?”

She lowers her eyes to her plate. “Maybe I felt like there was something wrong with me that I wasn’t driven to rise in the ranks of some hot shot job. Being with Michael made it feel like I was successful by default.”

“That doesn’t seem like you at all,” I tell her truthfully. “You’re clearly more put together than that.”

“Thank you?” I can tell she’s not sure if that’s a compliment or not.

“You’re better off without him.”

“I obviously think so, too,” she agrees. “I did leave him.”

I remind myself that while I like Lorelai, I cannot allow myself to get distracted by her. I’m here to make things right with my dad and as soon as I do that I’m going back to Chicago. I hurry to finish my burger before saying, “I’d better get going.”

She forces a smile. “Thanks for dinner, Luke. I’ll see you at home later.”

A warm rush of contentment fills me. She’ll see me athome. I like how that sounds. Better yet, I like how it makes me feel. It’s too bad Lorelai never wants to live in Chicago, because I’m starting to think that I’d like to see her there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LORELAI

Time is starting to blend together, and I’m no longer sure what day it is. My life has become all about sorting, packing, and schlepping. It turns out my parents want even less from their lives here than I thought they did and the trips to Goodwill have increased.Am I the only one who has fond memories of this house?

After consulting the calendar, I discover it’s only been three days since I found out about my mom and dad’s relocation plans. I decide to take a break from boxing up their seasonal clothes to call Noah. I’m still piqued that he knew about my parents wanting to sell before I did, so I tell him, “I am not packing up your room for you.”

“Um, okay. Hi, by the way.”

“If you want to keep anything, you’d better come home and pack it yourself. Then get rid of whatever you don’t want.” I’m usually way nicer than this, but my family is currently on my list.

“You’re in a mood,” he grumbles.

“I’ve been packing for three straight days and I’m getting tired of it.”

He shouts, “Get back onto that court and walk it off!”

I hear a poor soul, who I’m guessing is one of his basketball players, say, “But Coach, it’s starting to swell.”

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