Page 61 of Pity Play

“Yum!”

Instead of sitting across from me, Luke positions himself right next to me. The little hairs all over my body respond by standing at attention. Handing me a spoon, he says, “I got you your own because I’m pretty competitive when it comes to this flavor combination.”

The thought that he even considered sharing makes me wonder what the heck is going on here. Luke has made it clear that nothing is going to happen between us, and yet he held my hand for three blocks and now he’s making reference to oursharing dessert? Even though I’m sure this doesn’t mean anything, it still feels pretty romantic.

I take a spoonful of Bordeaux cherry first and nearly swoon from pleasure. “A boy from school asked me out for ice cream once,” I tell him.Why did I say that?

He shrugs his eyebrows up and down. “And? How did that go?”

“Poorly,” I tell him. “It was two weeks before prom so I was hopeful he was going to ask me, but instead he wanted to talk about Allie. He asked if she had any plans to go.”

His face contorts into a grimace. “Ouch.”

I hurry to explain, “It’s not like I was hung up on him or anything, but it was senior year, so it was my last chance to go to a high school prom.” I internally scream at myself to stop oversharing, but of course, I don’t. I feel compelled to add, “I never wanted to have to tell my daughter that no boy ever asked me to a high school dance.”

The expression on Luke’s face makes it clear he feels bad for me. But instead of commenting, he puts his spoon down and stands up. Then he walks across the room to the juke box and pulls coins out of his pocket. He inserts them into the machine before making a couple of selections. Moments later, he walks back and reaches out to take my hand again. “Lorelai, will you do me the honor of going to prom with me?”

“What?” Giddiness fills every corner of me. “You can’t be serious, Luke.”

“Why not?” he asks. “Itisprom night. So, all you have to do is say yes and we’ll have our own little dance right here. That way if your daughter asks you how your prom was you can tell her you had a great time.”

“A great time, huh?” A nearly ancient tune starts to play, and I giggle. “Frank Sinatra?”

He rolls his eyes comically. “I don’t think they’ve updated the juke box since our grandparents were kids.”

I let Luke take my hand and help me to my feet. He puts onearm around my waist and pulls me close before putting the other around my shoulder. “Does this mean you’ll go to the prom with me?”

I feel like I’m living a dream. “Yes, Luke. I’ll go to prom with you.”

We start to sway back and forth to “The Way You Look Tonight.” We’re dancing so closely I can smell remnants of Luke’s cologne mixed with the more prominent aroma of fried food from the diner. Good thing I love the smell of onion rings above all else.

Even though this isn’t a real high school dance, the fact that Luke is acting out such a charade for my benefit speaks volumes about what a considerate man he is. Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “This is actually more fun than the real prom.”

I know he can’t possibly be talking about his choice of date, so I tease, “It’s the cherry ice cream, isn’t it?”

“Among other things.” His answer makes my heart skip a beat. Why can’t Luke want to live in Elk Lake like I do? It’s not just because he’s every bit as attractive as I remember. He’s such a thoughtful and caring son; he’s funny—except for when he’s poking fun at me; and that man can cook! If not for the location issue, I think we might just be perfect together.

Once the song ends, “Crocodile Rock” by Elton John comes on. Luke breaks apart from me and starts some weird interpretive dance routine that both enchants me and makes me want to jump into his arms. “Ready for a fast number?” he asks.

Shaking my head slowly, I tell him, “I’m ready for the pistachio ice cream.”

As soon as we sit down, Luke says, “My dad should get a juke box for the diner.”

“That would be amazing,” I tell him.

“But he won’t because my dad is a creature of habit who doesn’t like change.”

“Some people might say the same thing about me,” I tell him before explaining, “Change is scary.”

“It’s exciting though!” His eyes start to shine in such a way that, compared to me, it’s clear Luke is an adrenaline junkie.

“What’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done?” I ask.

He thinks for a beat before saying, “Cliff jumping. Kahekili's Leap in Hawaii is a seventy-five-foot straight jump right into the Pacific.” The animated expression on his face makes his enthusiasm clear. “How about you? What’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done?”

There’s no way to answer his question without him learning what a true dud I am. “I shoplifted a tube of ChapStick once when I was seven.”

“Excuse me?” Luke barks with amusement.

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