Time After Time - A Gilmore Girls Fanfic #1

Chapter 21

Rory trudged through the snow, wondering when it would stop falling. Stars Hollow was blanketed in nearly fourteen inches of snow already and the skies were showing no signs of letting up. Even her mother, who was normally a fan of the stuff, was beginning to wish for a standstill as it was delaying construction at the annex.

When Rory reached her destination, she kicked snow off her boots before walking up onto the porch and ringing the doorbell.

"Come on in!" she heard Lane call from somewhere inside.

Rory opened the door and took a step inside the house. "Hello? Lane?"

Her best friend rounded the corner, a knife in her hand. "Come on in," she said before turning on a heel and marching back into the kitchen.

Rory followed her, coming to a stop in the doorway. "What is going on in here?" Every available surface—the counters, table, and even some of the chairs—were overrun with tomatoes. "It's like I've walked into the beginnings of a Veggie Tales horror movie."

Lane walked over to the counter, back to the half-cut tomato on the chopping board. "I decided to make tomato sauce."

"For the whole town?"

"They were on clearance," Lane said. "Taylor was just going to throw them out."

"Okay."

Lane sighed. "I figured I could save some money by making my own tomato sauce. Get a few dinners out of it, at least."

Rory's eyes flicked around. "Do you need help?"

"Please." Lane grabbed a knife and cutting board, handing both to Rory.

Rory turned in place, trying to find an open spot on which to work. Finally, she went to the table and began to stack tomatoes on top of each other until she had enough room. "So what are you saving for?" she asked as she sliced into the first tomato, finding it overripe and mushy.

Lane gave her a long look before saying, "Don't laugh, but we're thinking of recording an album."

"You are?"

"I know we're old and will probably never reach rock star status, but it's something, you know? At the end of the day, it's about making music."

"I think it's a great idea," Rory said with an encouraging smile.

"You do?" Lane asked, her eyebrows furrowed. "You don't think we're lame for desperately clinging to a dream that's already passed us by?"

"Of course not. You guys are good. Frankly, I don't know why you never thought of recording until now."

"Because studio time—and I mean a real recording studio that's not in someone's mom's basement with Dora the Explorer microphones—is ridiculously expensive."

"How much do you need?"

Lane sighed. "Way more than we can afford."

"How long have you been saving?"

"A long time." Lane's eyes flicked down to the tomato in her hand. "But it doesn't matter how long it takes. Even if we're in adult diapers and wheelchairs, we're still going to record that album, damn it."

"You will!" Rory said, nodding. "And it will be awesome."

Lane threw up the rock 'n roll hand gesture. "Geriatric rock!"

With a chuckle, Rory picked up another tomato and cut into it. Just then, from somewhere within the house she heard a clock chiming a familiar tune. "I know that sound," she said, listening until the melody was complete. "Where have I heard that sound?"