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okay.
hier der nächste Teil.
noch reFB für Holly:thx...and here's some more...*lol*
part XIII:
I parked my truck around the corner and decided to walk the last few meters. I was nervous like a little kid on his first day of school. For the twentieth time in five minutes I checked my watch. I just didn’t want to be too early. That would make a bad first impression. Once again, I tried to tighten my suit.
I always hated suits. It just wasn’t me. The tie strangled me and the pants were a few inches too short. But it was the only suit I owned. I last had worn it on my dad’s funeral. Since then, it was in my closet and I never even looked at it.
But this was a special occasion, I knew that. And I couldn’t imagine, how it feels like to be kicked out by one’s parents. I mean my dad always had been Grumpy McGrumpy but he was there for me – always. Lorelai must had felt terrible. And this was exactly the reason why I now stood in front of John F. Kennedy Lane Nb.23. As I looked at that house, I felt small, really small. In fact, I’d never seen such a huge house before. My restlessness was pushed trough the roof now. Again I tried to tighten my suit and again it was effectless. I walked over the driveway towards the front door. Arriving there, I felt like I had walked for five miles. But that was nonsense. I breathed deep, reached out my hand and rang the bell.
A few moments later, a young woman opened the door. She wore a maids-uniform and seemed a little scared. I remembered Lorelai’s words, But five minutes working for Emily Gilmore and people are begging for Castro and Stalin.
That fact didn’t really work in favor for my nerves...
"What can I do for you?", the maid asked me.
"Erm, hello. My name is Lucas Danes. I really need to talk to Mr. or Mrs. Gilmore."
"Please come in and wait in the foyer. Mrs. Gilmore will be here in a minute."
I stepped inside and again couldn’t help but to notice the hugeness of the house. Nervously, I ran through my hair. Then, a voice behind me, startled me.
"Mr. Danes, right?"
I turned and nodded. I saw a woman around 45 years with red hair and a very aristocratic fashion style.
"Yes," I quickly answered, "Lucas Danes. And you are Mrs. Emily Gilmore?"
I reached out my hand and she took it.
"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?"
"It’s about your daughter."
The woman in front of me looked rather pale now, a little scared maybe, then she said,
"Who are you? I mean, what’s the reason for your visit?"
I sighed. I truly wanted to tell her that I met Lorelai, that she was safe, that... But I couldn’t. Lorelai made me swear not to say anything. So, slowly, I answered,
"Am I right that your daughter turned 21 this year?"
Startled, Mrs. Gilmore looked at me. I thought I saw disgust in her face somehow. But I was sure, I’d imagined it.
"Yes, that’s right. But still, why are you here?"
I cleared my throat, "I’m an employee of the agency for missed persons. The one your daughter is in. Well, she’s an adult now. I’m sorry to say it like that but our prices rise once you’re searching for an adult. We’re specialized on children, you know... And since you’re searching for her since... 3 years? You maybe want to..."
The impression on Mrs. Gilmore’s face changed from stunned to angry to sad. I could feel, she had to fight to keep up her contenance. But the wall around her didn’t fall. She interrupted me.
"No. How dare you say something like that? Of course, we want to keep on searching for our daughter. I would pay a million dollars to get her back. Just keep that action going, okay?", she almost shouted now.
A door behind me opened. It made me jump and I turned around. A rather big man with hair streaked with grey in a suit and a bow tie stood in front of me.
"What’s up, Emily dear?", he said, taking off his glasses.
Obviously, he was Lorelai’s father. Immediately, I felt smaller. This man had an ability to scare me, though he looked rather friendly at me.
His wife began to speak again,
"This man...", she pointed at me, "This man wanted to tell me, I should stop searching for Lorelai."
Now Mr. Gilmore really looked angry at me, he towered over me. Quickly, I defended myself.
"I was not doing such a thing. I just wanted to tell her that the costs rise, now your daughter’s 21."
Mr. Gilmore made a few steps towards me. He looked more polite now.
"I’m sorry, Mr.", he paused, looking stern. ,
"Danes", I chimed in and reached out my hand, "Lucas Danes."
"Ah, alright, Mr. Danes. Again, I’m sorry. You surely just do your job here. You know, we’re very sensible about that topic...", he gulped and broke off.
Again, I felt something like pity for them. They really seemed to miss her. But wasn’t it their own fault? It was them, who kicked her out. But nonetheless, it was a very long time ago...
"Of course, I understand. This must be rough for you. I didn’t mean to..."
I really wanted to speak further but Lorelai’s mom interrupted me once again.
She seemed to get her color back. She looked better now. For a split of a second I could see a look just like Lorelai’s and my guilty feeling rose again.
But the second was gone.
Again, there was that imaginary wall around her, which told me Don’t touch me. I’m invincible.
"Mr. Danes. I’m sorry for this little outburst here. I just... never mind. I apologize. How much will it be?"
I was confused and at first I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then I remembered she was talking about the money.
"Erm...that would be 250$ per month. But I guess that’s not a big fortune for you."
She gave me weak smile, but never answered, because at that moment the telephone began to ring. And it rang and rang and rang. I shot Mrs. Gilmore a confused look, then I said,
"Why don’t you?", I broke off.
Lorelai’s mom shouted trough the whole house:
"Consuela!! The phone. La telefona!!" , then a little more silent, "Ah, for heaven’s sake, I’ll catch it myself."
She walked down the hallway and and mumbled something under her breath. I only understood snippets of it but enough to know that poor Consuela wouldn’t work for the Gilmore household any longer.
Mrs. Gilmore picked up the phone, "Hello? Gilmore residence."
Even the phone announcement is richer than mine, I thought.
I looked at her. Something seemed to be wrong. She again, was pale. But paler than before, almost white. Her mouth hang open a tiny little bit. Her eyes were widened.
I only saw one person in my whole life looking like that – just shocked.
It had been my father, when he told me that my mother died in a carcrash. I had been seven. I would never forget that look...
I focused back to the present. Mrs. Gilmore was speaking again, barely hearable,
"Richard, would you please be so kind to show Mr. Danes the way out?"
I quickly made a step backwards.
"Don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll find the way."
I turned around and went towards the front door, opened it and was about to close it behind me, as I heard a few more words. Richard Gilmore was speaking.
"What is it, Emily?"
Quickly, I closed the door. I didn’t want to be too curious. But nevertheless, I heard the last words of Mrs. Gilmore,
"Richard, it’s... it’s Christopher."
greets, CedJo
:
Warum wollen die ihre Tochter unbedingt zurückhaben? Lore hat sie doch voll enttäuscht, aber Emily muss man nicht verstehen.
abber:
