Emma rang the doorbell.
"Oh. Hello, dear." Emily opened the door. It was the first time they were alone since the tool shed incident.
"Hi, grandma." Emma gives her grandma a hug. It was very needed.
"Come in, come in." Emily closes the door. "How did you get here? Is everything alright?"
"I took the bus. And everything is alright, grandma."
"Have you had breakfast? Do you want anything?"
"I ate, but thank you." She invites Emily to sit down in her own couch. "I need to tell you something."
"Oh God, tell me you're not pregnant!" It was as if Emily had war-flashbacks in her eyes.
"No, no. I just... need to ask for a favour?" Emily was about to open her mouth again but her granddaughter stopped her before the thoughts transformed into words. "It's not money. It's... I won't be able to come for this Friday night dinner. And neither Rory and mom."
"Oh. That's okay, honey. I thought it was a matter of life or death. You're leg won't stop shaking, calm down." Emily's smile and touch made Emma breathe again. "Can I ask why neither of you are coming?"
"We have a concert."
"That's totally fine-"
"There's more." The grandma pays very close attention to every movement, every word of the granddaughter. Emma's anxiety wasn't subtle. "It's my concert. My band is going to be playing in a small venue. It's a big opportunity for us. We're just starting out."
"You're in a band?"
"Yes. We're called 'Oblivion'."
"Where's the show?"
"Not far from here. It's in Hartford."
"What time will it start?"
"Around 8pm, I think."
"Great. I'll ask your mother the location and expect me and your grandpa to be there."
"You don't have to."
"Yes, I do. I won't lie, I was surprised, but I'm going to support you no matter what. I did that mistake before, I won't do it again."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." This hug between the two of them was way more meaningful than the first one. This hug was full of love and gratitude.
Emma looked at her watch. It was 10am.
"Grandma, I need to get going. Thank you, again."
"I'll walk you to the door." That's what she does. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"
"No, there's no need. A friend is picking me up."
"A friend?" Emily opened the front door for her granddaughter to leave and she saw a Porsche in her driveway. Emily walks up to the car. "Who are you and where are you taking my granddaughter?" She had a severe and protective look on her face.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Gilmore. It's very nice to see you." Tristan gets out of the car to greet Emily.
"Tristan Dugray! How's your grandmother? She missed the last DAR meeting?" Emily started smiling again.
"Great. She started another renovation in her house. The kitchen is this time's victim. That's probably why she didn't attend the meeting."
"I didn't know. I must go there and have a look."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Grandma, we really have to get going. Thank you so much for everything."
"Of course. And have fun!"
Tristan opens the door for Emma and she smiles as a thank you.
"Goodbye, grandma."
"Goodbye, Mrs. Gilmore."
"Bye, bye."
And the silver car disappeared off the driveway. Emma looked at Tristan in awe. He was nice, polite and looked really nice in that dark blue shirt. She was wearing a brown skirt, a beige top and a leather blazer.
"How do you know my grandma?"
"I like tea parties." He answered innocently. "Did she agree to the concert?"
"Yes, they're even coming."
"Wow. Emily and Richard Gilmore listening to punk-rock music isn't something I ever thought I'd see."
"Neither did I." She adjusts the seat and checks herself in the review mirror. "So, where are we going?"
"Open that compartment and take out the folded papers."
When she looks at the words on the papers her smile got brighter.
"This is a list and a map of a bunch of bookstores in New York. Wait. Are we going to New York?"
"Yes. We're getting there around noon and we'll be back before dinner time. If you'd like that."
"Thank you so much." The traffic lights turned red and Emma grabbed his face and kissed him. "This is the happiest I felt since my mother gave me my first guitar!"
"So am I." The traffic lights turned green. On contrast, Tristan was blushing.
"I brought CD's." She pulled a couple CD cases from her bag.
"Of course you did." He smiled.
"Yes. I had to expose you to good music." She inserts the CD into the CD player. "You really need this."
The car ride flew by. Emma felt as if she was literally flying. It was the perfect romantic fantasy she had in her head.
Tristan listened to every song and to every words she said. He was amazed. How could a human being be so fascinating and beautiful like her? He would ask himself that repeatedly.
At lunch, they ate hot dogs in a bench in Washington Park.
"Tell me about yourself. I feel like i've been talking non-stop. I think it's because i'm nervous."
"Don't be nervous. I love to hear you talk. It's enchanting." That made her blush. "What do you wanna know?"
"I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders. "What's your family like?"
"Uh. That's a fun topic. My mother is a sweet woman who fell for a cold dickhead of a man. I've asked her to divorce him many times, but she always reacts as if i'm talking about an unforgivable sin. My father is not that bad as a father, he's very flawed and very absent and very very very rigid, but he loves me in his way. My grandparents are my safe space. That's why I go to many of my grandma's tea parties." The callback lighted the mood, which of extremely needed. "You should come with me to one. It's actually fun."
"I'll think about that. What about your grandfather?"
"He's in the hospital right now. He had a heart-attack in September, fell down the stairs and broke his back."
"Oh. I'm so sorry. Is he recovering?"
"A little. I think."
"Do you ever visit him?"
"Every odd day."
"Today is an odd day..."
"I visited him before picking you up. He wished me good luck for our date."
"You told him about it?"
"Yes. Of course. He gave the bookstore idea. He's also obsessed with books." They were looking at each other. "I think i tell him everything, he's kind of my best friend. It's lame, right? A 70 year old man is my best friend."
"No. I think it's sweet." Her eyes were sparkly. "You're grandfather is your best friend. I would love to meet him someday." He smiled in a different way than before. Tristan smiled at the feeling of acceptance and understanding. "We don't have to talk about this anymore." She scattered her mind for another topic. "What's your favorite color?"
"Blue."
"Me too."
After that, they went to every bookstore on the list, walked on the cobblestone with their hands intertwined and innocently kissed against bookshelves when nobody was around. They bought a book for each other at Strand, the last one they visited.
It was 7pm and Tristan arrived at Emma's house.
"Thank you so much for today." She said with her hand on the door handle.
"No. Thank you." He leaned in and kissed her one last time that day. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye." She left the car blushing. Oh boy.
✯✯✯
It's Monday morning, the day after. Emma was at school next to her locker. I feel like I always say that, but it's the most convenient place. Anyways. Tristan comes in, as per usual, but this time he approaches her with a kiss. He leans in and she pulls back.
"I think it's too soon for pda. We only went on one date."
"So when's the second date?" His optimist jokes made her all flustered. She smiled and a group of freshman girls walked by. They said 'hi' to Tristan in the flirtiest way possible. Emma's envy took over and she kissed him. It was her not so subtle way of telling them to 'fuck off'. The girls looked shocked and went away whispering into each others ears.
"I'm sorry." And walks away in embarrassment. Tristan goes after with the biggest grin on his face.
"Wait. What about 'too soon for public display of affection'?"
She was blushing. He wasn't seeing it, but he sort of knew.
"Shut up." She speaks without looking back. Tristan grabs her by the waist right next to the door of their first class and kisses her softly and shortly on the lips, a very quick moment that she wasn't prepared for.
"It's cute that you were jealous. I find it flattering."
"I wasn't jealous."
His smile grew even bigger and he rested his lips on her forehead before they walked into Mr. Medina's class with rosy cheeks and hazy eyes. Tristan's love language is physical touch, which is something Emma isn't used to, but, with him, she was learning to be more comfortable at it. Emma's love language is words of affirmation. Also, they both have gift giving as a love language.
Emma sits next to Louise. She's the closest thing to a friend Emma has at Chilton.
"I'm so stupid."
"No, Em. You're just in love." Louise whispered back. Emma never talked to her about things like that but she had the feeling Louise could read the situation easily, as if she heard her every thought from pure silence.
For the record, she wasn't in love, yet. However, she could see the fall in a close distance. She was just a few feet away from falling in love with Tristan. It was terrifying.
Tristan had already fallen for her, that's why even in class he focused his gaze on her. At one point, Mr. Medina interrupted the class to wake him up from the lavender haze. It actually happened twice and, the second time, he said:
"Mr. Dugray, what is more captivating: Tolstoy's portrayal of madness or Miss Gilmore's side profile?" Tristan looked all flustered but still managed to formulate a witty response.
"Miss Gilmore herself is more captivating than any dead guy's philosophical rantings."
Emma wanted to die in that moment, she was covering her face. Rory laughed out loud and Mr. Medina laughed along.
"Thank you for sharing your incite, Mr. Dugray. Let's go back to our regular schedule. What is the symbolism behind Vronsky's racehorse?" Paris and Rory automatically raised their hands to answer. Emma looked at Tristan, trying to show her frustration and looking for the grin in his face. He was looking down but when he rose his glowing eyes he saw an irritated Emma. Tristan mouthed the words:
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. I find it flattering." Emma mouthed the words back. They smiled at each other like fools until she broke the eye contact and turned her attention to Rory and Paris' daily academic discussion.
✯✯✯
"So, we'll scratch Monet Issues from the setlist." Emma just told her bandmates that her grandparents were in the venue and this was Dave's instant reaction.
"Yes. I won't sing about family feud traumas in front of my grandparents."
"What song will we play instead?"
"Maybe Pacific? Or is that too personal?" Lane suggests, but she knows the backstory.
Pacific was about Christopher, as well as two more songs, but this one was more wounding.
The two other songs were Townie, which had a few lines about him like 'I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be', and I know it won't work, which was a mixed perspective of all the Gilmore girls about the fact that Christopher always came back and it never worked out. Like the waves...
"No, not Pacific. We'll just play one less song."
"Fine by me." Brian spoke. "Ready?"
"Ready." The other three answered.
"Oblivion." The band chanted and walked up to the stage not as nervous as the first time, but equally as happy.
When the show ended Emily and Richard waited for their granddaughter with pride.
"You were amazing!" Emily hugged her.
"Really?"
"Of course. It's very different from our music taste, but still spectacular." It was Richard's time for a hug.
"That means a lot. Thank you."
"Here are your drinks Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore." Tristan appeared with two cups in his hands.
"Thank you, Tristan."
"Why are you serving my grandparents? Are you trying to impress them?" Emma pulls him aside and says quietly.
"It's being polite. You should try it sometime." She punches his arm. "Ouch."
"I am extremely polite."
"My arm says otherwise." She wasn't really mad at him. She couldn't. That's impossible. "Every time I go to one of your shows I always end up hurt."
"Two times."
"Two shows."
"Shut up. That didn't hurt."
"You really like shutting me off."
"Maybe you need to be quiet."
"I know you love my voice."
She was about to say 'shut up' again. Instead she smiled.
Things were going great.