Excerpt 1:
After climbing the stairs, I open the door to my room, and I’m immediately filled with the comforting familiarity of my early years. I’ve thought about redecorating now that I’m an adult but being that I spend as much time living in my parents’ room—when they’re in Florida—as I do here, I haven’t quite pulled the trigger. Also, I’m twenty-eight, and even though I tell Noah there’s nothing wrong with me still living at home, I have started to wonder how much longer I’ll be here.

Once again, I let my feather duster take flight and when it gets to the posters, I perform a ritual from my teenage years. I swipe it across Mel B’s face and sing, “I tell you what I want, Luke Phillips. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna go out on a date with you!”

I’m so busy jamming around my room that I jump when the doorbell rings. It can’t even be eight o’clock so I have no idea who it is. I know it’s not Luke because he won’t be here until ten. That leaves old Mrs. Bing from next door.

My bluish-haired neighbor isn’t generally a bother, but ever since her husband went into the nursing home, she regularly stops by when she needs a jar opened or a spider killed. One time she told me that our weeds were growing out of control and kindly offered to send her gardener over. I let her do that once but then she hit me with a bill for a hundred and fifty dollars. Now we all just live with the weeds.

I run down the stairs with the Spice Girls still ringing in my head, and apparently out of my mouth because as I swing open the door, I practically shout, “If you wannabe my lover …” And that’s when I realize Mrs. Bing isn’t my guest.

All six-foot two inches of Luke Phillips is standing in front of me, and man, does he look good. It’s March in Wisconsin so he’s dressed for winter in a bomber jacket and wool scarf. Nicely fitted jeans showcase every gorgeous inch of his long legs.

I know I should say something to him, but my mouth pools with so much saliva that if I don’t swallow it soon, I’m liable to drool on the man. Swallow your spit, girl.

Once I manage that monumental, and embarrassingly audible, task, I blurt out, “Hey … Hello … Hi there!” Oh yeah, I’m a real orator.

“Hi.” Luke’s beanie-covered head tips to the side. His gorgeous brown eyes narrow like he’s inspecting a moldy piece of cheese. “I’m looking for Lorelai Riley.”

This is my chance to tell him she’s not here and that he should come back at ten when he was supposed to arrive, but my synapses aren’t firing. That must be why I throw my arms into the air and practically shout at him, “I’m Lorelai!”

Luke takes a step backward like he’s going to make a run for it. Instead of fleeing, he moves his gaze from the top of my purple bandana all the way to my bare feet. This of course means he’s aware I’m wearing a pink flowered flannel nightgown from Lanz of Salsburg. A favorite with grannies everywhere.

“Hi,” he repeats. Yet he makes no move toward the door. In fact, there’s no movement at all. It’s like he’s turned into a marble statue. He even stays put after I step back and gesture for him to come in.

Well, this is awkward. I start stammering, “I didn’t expect you until ten. I mean, that’s when Noah said you were coming so that’s why I’m not dressed.” He looks borderline terrified, so I hurry to add, “I was cleaning. Getting ready for you.”

He lifts his foot like he’s going to take a step forward, but the action is so slow it’s like he’s trying to push his way through a wall of frozen molasses. “I can find a hotel or something …”

“What? No! Come on in! You’re staying here!” The image of Kathy Bates from that old movie Misery pops into my mind. From the look on Luke’s face, he’s thinking something similar. I want to assure him that I won’t hobble him, chain him to the bed, and keep him as a hostage, but I think that might scare him more.

 

Excerpt 2:
Walking to the bedroom door, I open it while staying hidden behind it. Then I listen for any sounds coming from my room. There’s nothing, so I tiptoe down the hall. I discover my room is empty, so Luke must already be downstairs. Exhaling loudly in relief, I continue to stare at my bed. It’s rumpled like it’s been slept in, but the covers are pulled as though an attempt has been made to make it.

Luke Phillips slept in my bed last night. As that image soaks into my consciousness, I feel teenage giddiness flow through me.

I hear a creaking noise behind me and immediately realize my mistake. Luke isn’t in my room because he’s in the bathroom across the hall. I turn to run back to my parents’ room, but something in my brain decides that it’s too far away, so I wind up dashing into my own room. I make a run for the closet and manage to cross the threshold in the nick of time.

From my secret vantage point, I watch Luke as he walks into the room. He’s only wearing a towel. Holy heck! What do I do now? I can’t stand here and watch him undress, can I? Well, maybe just for a second. I chastise myself not to act like a perve-o, but I take too long. Luke drops his towel which causes me to gasp, loudly.

“Lorelai?” I hear him call out. He doesn’t sound pleased.

He knows I’m here. All he has to do is walk over for confirmation. “Oh, hey, Luke …” I sound like an idiot. “I just came in here to get a … a … a sweater.”

He rustles around for a moment before I see his shadow creep toward the door frame. I turn to face my sweater collection, so I don’t have to make eye contact with him. “Did you find one?” Oh yeah, he’s mad.

Grabbing the first sweater I see, I take it off the stack and pull it over my head. Oh dear, it’s tight so I know it’s an old one. But the only way out of this situation is to keep going with the lie. Turning around, I force a smile to my face, and blurt out, “Good, you put some pants on.” Great, now he knows I saw his towel fall off. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut around him?

Embarrassment blooms across Luke’s cheeks. “Lorelai, I think we need to talk.”

Dear God, no! We can never speak of this, ever. “No need,” I tell him. “I’ll just move more of my clothes over to my parents’ room, so this never happens again. But I’ll do it later so you can keep getting ready.”

I try to scurry past him, but he gently grabs my arm to stop me. “This is the sweater you came in here to get?”

“Yes, it is,” I tell him emphatically. “It’s my favorite.” Belatedly, I look down and see that I’m wearing Mickey Mouse’s face embroidered across a purple acrylic garment that’s so small it’s practically cropped. If that’s not bad enough, there’s a big hole in one of the armpits and a snag running through Mickey’s face.

There’s nothing I can do but brazen this out, so I disengage from Luke’s hand and announce, “Mickey Mouse is my ideal man.” Then I make a run for it.

 

Excerpt 3:
“My parents are moving,” I blurt out.

“To Florida?” Even he doesn’t sound surprised. Am I the only one who didn’t see this coming?

“Yeah.” I probably shouldn’t complain to him, but I can’t seem to help myself. “I’m not sure what that means for me.”

Luke flips a crepe in the omelet pan he’s holding. “I suppose it means you’re going to move too.”

“To where though?”

“Where were you before?”

“Madison,” I tell him. “But I don’t want to go back there.”

“Bad breakup?” he asks before hurrying to add, “I didn’t mean to ask that. Noah said I shouldn’t mention it.”

“Noah said not to mention what?”

“That you and your boyfriend just broke up. I’m sorry.” He pulls two plates down from the cabinet and puts them in the microwave.

“That was over two years ago,” I tell him. “And it wasn’t a particularly bad break up. I just realized Michael wasn’t the guy for me.”

“Really? Noah said it just happened.” He’s back to looking nervous.

What is my brother up to? But then it hits me. “You didn’t happen to just break up with your girlfriend, too?” I ask him.

“What girlfriend?”

“The girlfriend Noah said you recently parted ways with.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Your brother has some explaining to do.”

Picking up my phone, I push the button beside Noah’s picture, then I put the call on speaker. It rings three times before I hear him say, “Lorelai, what’s up? You feeling any better about Mom and Dad’s move?”

“No, I’m not,” I tell him plainly. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I’m wondering why you told Luke that Michael and I just broke up.”

“What?” He sounds guilty. “He must have misheard me. I didn’t say …”

Luke joins the conversation. “What exactly did I mishear?”

“Oh, hey, Luke.” Noah’s caught now and I half expect him to make up an excuse that he has to go.

Before he can, I volunteer, “Luke says he didn’t break up with anyone, either.”

“Fine, you’ve caught me.” My brother confesses, “The truth is that now that we’re all grown up, I got to thinking that you two might be a good match. You know, you’re both so creative and all.”

“So, my staying here wasn’t for my benefit?” Luke sounds angry. “It was to set me up with your sister?” He says sister like it’s a synonym for vampire, or slug. Either way, it’s not very flattering.

I’m insulted that he’s taking it so hard. If he weren’t standing here, I’d probably thank my brother for his intervention. Yet I feel pressured to sound as offended as Luke does, so, I tell Noah, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.”

“Can you though?” he demands. “You’ve had the biggest crush on Luke ever since you first met him. I thought I was doing you a favor.” It’s my turn to blush.

Glancing up nervously, I attempt to smile at my guest. Though, I’m certain it comes out more as a grimace. “I did have a crush on you, but I don’t anymore. I mean, obviously.” The image of me playing peeping Tom yesterday pops into my mind and I lower my head in shame.

“Noah,” Luke tells my brother, “I’m too busy to date. Not to mention, Lorelai and I don’t even live in the same town.” Happily, he doesn’t mention my childhood infatuation, or my voyeuristic tendencies. I’m not sure I could handle that.

“Lorelai might be leaving Elk Lake,” Noah says, which once again makes me angry that he learned of my fate before I did.

“I may have to move,” I tell him, “But I have no plans on moving to Chicago.” If I did, I’d probably only be able to afford to rent a stoop in front of a seedy liquor store.

“You could move to Chicago if you wanted,” Noah says. “I’d even let you stay with me for a month while you got settled.” Apparently, the word is out in my family. Don’t let Lorelai stay for long or she’ll never leave.

“How magnanimous of you.” The sarcasm is heavy. “But I’ll find some way to make it on my own, and that won’t be in Chicago.”

“You’re both missing the point,” Noah says.

“Which is?” Luke sounds perturbed, which of course ruffles me.

“You’re both single and reasonably good-looking …” Luke is straight up hot, so I suppose I’m the one being damned by this dim compliment. Noah continues, “And I love you both. I think you’d be great together.”

The tension is suddenly so thick you’d think the room was about to explode like an atomic bomb being detonated. “I don’t have time to think about dating anyone,” I tell my brother.

“Luke isn’t just anyone,” he says. “He’s your childhood heartthrob.” I want to slink under the table and hide. I so badly want to look at Luke but I’m afraid I’ll see an expression of disgust etched across his features.

The object of my fantasies interjects, “I’m in Elk Lake to patch things up with my dad, Noah. And while I appreciate your helping me find a place to stay, I’d be grateful if you’d stay out of the rest of my business.”

I am mortified.