One More Cup Lorelei And Rory

Lorelei brought the warm, not hot, cup of coffee to her daughter's exposed nipple.

"I don't want to hurt you," Lorelei said, her face crumpled in worry.

But Rory took control of the mug, guiding and submerging her small perky breast and equally as perky nipple into the warm, not hot, brown liquid. The meat of Rory spilled over the cup's rim.

Relaxing into the coffee's warmth, Rory closed her eyes until the gentle heat subsided.

"Um, hello," Lorelei said, cradling the mug in her hands, guarding it. "I'm supposed to be in charge here."

"You were taking forever."

"I was not!"

Incredulous, Rory dipped her head, releasing the bangs hooked behind her ear. "An entire Paul Thomas Anderson movie played while you just stood there, futzing with the coffee."

Holding up the mug, Lorelei widened her eyes. "After making the coffee--"

"You got it at Luke's!"

"Yes! I did! Okay? To make things special, to make this whole mommy-daughter play, or whatever, more comfortable!"

Rory scoffed before reaching for the zipper of her open jacket. "Don't act like this wasn't your idea--"

Shutting down the liveliness, Lorelei got quiet and held out the mug. "Hold this."

With her fine delicate hands, Rory cradled the cup before setting it down on her childhood desk. Different, younger versions of herself, her mother, and her best friend Lane stared down at her from scenes of parties, sleepovers, and town festivals of crunchy leaves as well as snow.

"Time in," Lorelei said quietly before returning to her normal tone. "This wasn't my idea--"

"Was to!"

"I'm sorry, are we mid-kickball right now? Are you going to put gum in my hair?"

"Kirk said that we deserved each other after rebuffing his data scheme--"

"Ah yes, Kirk Lurks--"

"And then you said you did have this one dream--"

"Like Martin Luther King Jr. before me!"

"That's racist!"

Lorelei scoffed. "It is not. He had a dream and I had one too. Isn't that equality?"

Shaking her head, Rory pulled up the zipper on her jacket, hiding away her breasts and taut, soft skin, pale as a pearl.

Each making their way toward the bed, Lorelei sat down on the mattress, fully clothed, bummed that she hadn't drudged up the courage to expose herself. Rory sprung for sitting on the chest, wanting some distance.

Lorelei broke the silence first. "We didn't have to do this, ya know?" She looked over at her daughter, soft eyes above a small frown.

"No," Rory sighed. "You said you had a dream that you dunked...my breast into a mug of coffee and I said--"

"'That's so David!' And I said, 'Which one?'"

"Lynch and Cronenberg with John Waters dropping by on set."

Both women smiled to themselves then turned to smile at one another.

"I was down for it," Rory said. "I was Ben Affleck at the tattoo parlor pointing to the giant phoenix."

Lorelei twisted her lips, unsure. "But we...drop it now?"

Rory wiped a defiant hand in front of her. "We're Gilmore girls, dammit. We're triers. Did we balk when Al went German and put meat in the pancakes?"

"Not before a first bite!"

"Did we give up when Taylor had us sweating in mermaid costumes outside the new pet store?"

Lost in a memory, Lorelei rolled her eyes, disbelieving her own life. "We should have..."

On a roll, Rory stood. "Did Bjork surrender when Lars Von Trier worked her ass off?"

First stomping her feet, Lorelei stood too. "No, she didn't. She ate her own blouse instead."

"I kinda forgot my point," Rory said with a grimace.

Lorelei placed her hands on her daughter's arms, feeling proud of her. "I think you were trying to say that we shouldn't give up just because what we're doing is weird and--"

"Illegal?" Rory offered.

"Mammas and the Papas kind of illegal," Lorelei said, pulling at an invisible collar.

"But, hey, I'm a woman in her thirties with her autonomy and if I want to kiss my mother then I'll do it!"

"The two couldn't have been more close, their respective breath escaping them, commingling in the space between.

"You'd really kiss your mom just cause she had some dumb dream?" A twinkle flashed in Lorelei's eye.

Rory held up a finger. "Don't forget Kirk's urging."

"How could I?" Lorelei said softly, thinking nothing of Kirk and only of her daughter's pillowy lips. She couldn't speak for Rory or her hand that was reaching for the zipper on her daughter's jacket.

What Lorelei knew is what anyone knows at the beginning of something new, there's a ledge and a subsequent fall that will either bring demise or heart-pounding success and the only way to reach one of those conclusions is by jumping off.

Lorelei gripped the face of the young woman she brought into the world and, ever so slightly, parted her lips. Breast in coffee, no coffee at all, bed, or standing, it was certain that Lorelei would jump that day.