Hoshkosh Flashbacks (Robin Little)

[Lorelai]

Lorelai couldn't help but smile at his reply, as she'd been right not to believe Marribelle. She sighed ever so softly and all of the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders and arms melted away. She no longer needed the support off the chair, and so she reached out to grab the remaining crockery from off the table. She stacked the bowls the food had been served from and followed Robin to the kitchen. She didn't know that he planned on staying and helping, and would only allow herself to hope that he'd stay and talk a little longer. She'd never dream of shirking her duties and she'd never think of asking Robin to help her complete a task that was hers alone.

"I don't like to think the worst of people but I did have the feeling that perhaps Marribelle wasn't being entirely truthful. So please don't blame yourself. Us Hoshkosh women have a little too much time for fantasy. Though I should warn you. You may find her on your porch front later."

She hated the idea of it but it was a possibility and Robin probably required the warning. She hadn't seen him using his laptop in a few days and she knew he rose late in day, when compared to the residents of Hoshkosh, so it didn't take much brain power for her to work out that he was likely writing at night when he was less likely to be disturbed. She tended to read late at night and often fell asleep, book in hand.

"And thank you Robin. For carrying the dishes through. I appreciate the help but you are a guest and it was quite unnecessary."

She set the bowls on the side of the sink, pushed the plug into place and began to run the hot water once she'd added a little of the all-natural washing up liquid and waited for the sink to fill up. As she had a little time, she took the opportunity to tie her hair back, only rather than using some sort of elasticated band, she divided her hair in two, knotted it twice. It wouldn't stay like that for long, as it had a tendency to work itself free, but it usually held up long enough for her to wash and dry the dishes.

With the sink still filling, she used the time to discretely look Robin over only now her hair would not cover the flush of her cheeks. He was handsome and worldly and intelligent, and while Hoshkosh men (and women) were not without their charms, she couldn't help but think how superior he was to anyone she'd met up until that point in her life. She wasn't sure what Robin actually knew about her but she was sure that someone, most likely Marribelle, would have told him that she was into women. Though Lyle's jealous behaviour would have likely proved that wrong and had Robin asked anyone without a vested interest in her, he'd of likely been told that she didn't exactly choose sides when it came to dating. Lorelai had long ago realised that she wasn't attracted to one specific gender. She simply fell in love. It didn't matter to her if the person she was male or female; love was love regardless of the form it took.

[Robin Little]

Robin blinked at Lorelai for a second or two.

He wondered, somehow, whether everyone living within this compound had a tendency to be a little overly dramatic about things. Because this small patch of land consisted of their entire world, of course they would think small things amounted to big deals. They would get caught up in the whirlwind of petty love triangles and … well, thinking Robin would blame himself for a lie that someone else told. If it was a lie. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Lorelai had misheard. There could be a dozen explanations.

Although Robin could be oblivious, he instinctively knew when best to take a step back. Whether or not Marribelle did lie, it was best not to get tangled up in that particular web. As a writer, he liked to observe. Even though a lot of the time those in the know would say it was best to experience things in order to become a better writer, Robin tended to disagree, to an extent. A writer could be far more revered if he were able to concoct a realistic story purely from imagination rather than from experience.

But anyway. This was not something that Robin wanted to experience. To have women fighting over him, to be caught up in that kind of drama – it was something that could be observed rather than experienced, and it would be far more beneficial that way.

Of course, the blush wasn’t entirely missed, but Robin attributed it to the heat of the water as it filled the sink in front of her. He plucked the tea towel from where it had been folded, and prepared to begin wiping.

”I don’t blame myself for anything, Lorelai,” he said with half a smile. ”And I might be a guest, but it’s not like I invite anyone else over to my place for dinner. So I have to contribute in some way, right?” he asked. That was the way this place worked, wasn’t it? Almost like a bartering system. Or something. And Robin had to at least do enough to keep himself from being kicked to the curb. Though at this point, that might not be such a bad thing.

”I was talking to a friend from Harper Rock the other night. He has a housemate who’s just moved out and he’s looking for someone to take the room. I might take him up on his offer – so I might not be a ‘guest’ for much longer. So at least let me dry the dishes?” he said.

[Lorelai]

His argument was sound and as much as Lorelai wanted to tell him it was entirely unnecessary to help her with the dishes, she was half frightened he'd leave if she took the tea towel from him. A moment later she found herself wishing she'd done just that. She switched off the taps and set about the task of washing up to try and keep her mind off of it but almost dropped the first item she washed when it came time to hand it to him.

"Oh," she replied a few moments too late to not be noticeably awkward. "Well it was only to be expected that you would take your leave one day."

She was unable or unwilling to look at him. Mainly due to the fact that she was trying not to let him see that her eyes were tearing up. She was going to miss Robin when he left.

"Do you have any plans once for once you reach the city?"

She was trying to be polite, to seem interested and as much as she was both of those things, and didn't usually have to try, the question came out sounding a little forced. Lorelai didn't really want to continue along this line of conversation but to outright dismiss it would have been rude of her. It wasn't Robin's fault that she would miss him. He hadn't really treated her any differently to the other women that showed an interest in him; though she did hope that her interest had been a little less obvious.

You know the rules Lorelai. Never fall for an outsider. It just brings you pain when they leave. She began to chastise herself. Robin clearly has no interest in you. She quickly glanced in his direction before plunging her hands into the hot water to wash the next item. I'm not his type and it will be easier to forget about him once he's gone. I should just appreciate him while he's here. He's a nice guy. Smart and insightful.

Her thoughts overtook her and she sighed wistfully before she could catch it and stop herself. Her shoulders slumped too, showing that she was clearly unhappy about something. Robin was smart enough to realise it might be his fault, that the idea of his leaving had upset her but whether or not he realised this would depend on how much attention he was actually paying her at that moment.

[Robin Little]

Robin wasn’t completely oblivious this time. Sometimes he was so completely lost in his own world that the real world passed him by. But sometimes he paid attention, because there was nothing else to do. And because a writer had to pay attention every now and again. He had to pay attention to be able to write about whatever it was he was seeing. In order to replicate something in words, in a way that was unique only to him; to craft something wholly interesting, and groundbreakingly poetic, he had to pay attention. Every now and again.

It wasn’t hard to see – to hear, even – that there was something he had said that had upset Lorelai. He doubted very much that it had anything to do with his willingness to help and to contribute. So it had to be about his leaving.

The water must have been hot, because the plates that Lorelai handed to him were not hard to dry. The water steamed from them, and the tea towel hardly got wet. He didn’t know where everything went away, so he stacked the clean and dried things up on a clear area of the bench. He cleared his throat. He didn’t ask what was wrong. That was a whole can of worms that he’d much rather avoid.

”Not really, no,” he answered her question. ”Once I get there I’ll try find a job – there are a couple of magazines I freelanced for before, so I’ll try and submit a few articles to get me started,” he said. Although he might have pretended like he hadn’t noticed the sudden shift in Lorelai’s mood, he couldn’t help but think her dejection was not just due to him leaving. But the fact that he could leave. He wanted to think she envied his freedom. He recalled a conversation they’d had, not too long ago. When next he spoke it was in a lower, hushed tone; he glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was no one else around.

”There’s nothing stopping you, Lorelai,” he said. ”You don’t have to have any plans. You just have to have a bit of cash or someone willing to help you out in the beginning, until you find your feet. You’ll find that a lot of the time, the universe hands you want you need at the opportune moment,” he said. It was philosophical. It was the kind of free-wheeling spiritual ******** that a lot of the occupants of Hoshkosh might try to spin. But it was one thing that Robin believed – it was one thing that had worked for him. He stopped trying to think too much, or to worry too much. What happened, happened. And normally, everything always worked out, in the end.

[Lorelai]

She nodded, hoping for the ground to swallow her whole. People came. People left. The community stayed strong. It was how they were taught to look at it every time they had visitors. The visitors helped to enrich their lives, taught them new things either through example or through their stories. Lorelai had not been raised to believe that you had to make all of your mistakes yourself in order to learn from them. You could learn from others if you just paid a little attention and accepted what was told to you as being the truth. It was probably why she didn't, for the most part, have a suspicious mind and why she was so happy and eager to trust each new person she encountered.

"I..."

She heard her voice crack as she began to talk and so coughed into her arm to try and right herself. of course she'd chosen to turn away from Robin as she did this, as turning towards him would allow him to look at her and she wasn't exactly ready for that yet.

"You are so much braver than I could ever be Robin, but I do believe you when you say that the universe will provide for us. If it is my path to walk, then one day I might find the courage. I do hope that you are able to find employment once you get there. Perhaps... If you aren't too busy... You might write to me? Let me know once you are settled and safe, so that I might not worry unnecessarily for you. You can describe the city for me through your eyes. Perhaps in your words I will the reason I need to take charge of my own destiny."

Lorelai wasn't really aware of the fact that what she was asking of him, was likely too much to ask of anyone. Her words were filled with hope and sadness in equal amounts. Of course she wanted to keep in contact with him, he was more than just a source of inspiration for her, he was a friend. She wanted to know he was safe. She wanted to know that his life had turned out well. Unlike other visitors they'd had in Hoshkosh, there was even a chance that he might write, seeing as how he was a writer and all. Many had promised to keep in touch in the past but few ever did. They wrote one letter, maybe two and then life just seemed to steal them away.

[Robin Little]

Robin began to laugh, and the stopped. He stopped, as Lorelai continued. His eyes were averted from the girl as she spoke; her words were weighted with emotions that Robin didn’t know what to do with. He’d never been good with emotions. He hardly knew what his own were doing half the time. How was he expected to wrangle those of others? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t had anything published, yet. Nothing he’d ever written was finished, not completely, because he couldn’t pin down that ephemeral thing. Emotion. He couldn’t press it flat and inspect all its elements. He hadn’t the capability to bring a character’s arch to completion, because when had he ever completed anything in his life?

As Lorelai handed him dishes, he continued to dry them. He made sure to catch every droplet of water. The tea towel was a good one. Nice and absorbent.

”Yeah, of course I’ll write,” he said. And he probably would, a couple of times. Maybe more. Because it would be a good way to procrastinate. Instead of working on Canada’s best novel since Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake, he’d write Lorelai a letter. Of course that was how it would go.

”But don’t mistake me for being brave, Lor,” he finally said, addressing the statement that had made him laugh. He cleared his throat as he glanced up at the blonde. She had her face turned away from him, and he couldn’t see her properly. He looked away again, and shrugged his shoulders.

”It’s not bravery when you’re kind of forced into a meandering, meaningless kind of existence. My father left when I was five and I can’t remember him. Mum never told me a thing about him. And my mother, well,” he said. He gave another shrug, another clearing of his throat. ”She’s not all there, mentally. She had moments of clarity, but I didn’t have the kind of parental support most people have. I have a sister, she’s older than me. She kind of just… got married and ignored the whole situation. I started work when I was fifteen. I scraped through high school by the skin of my knees. My mother … well she can kind of take care of herself…” he shook his. His story was broken. The truth was, he didn’t want to have to deal with his mother’s problems. She was a nutter. She was crazy. She’d gone missing, once, and he’d had a phone call from the police a week later. She’d been hospitalised. With the right medication, now, she’d been released. But still. Still.

He had grown up without adult supervision. Without role models. Whatever he had achieved, whatever talent he had, was gained all on his own merit, with what little enthusiasm he had. There were things that he was passionate about – writing, and literature. The power of the written word. And that was the path that he would follow. Those were the things he would indulge in, wherever they would take him. He took a deep breath.

”What I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to be brave. Bravery’s got nothing to do with it,” he said, holding out his hand for the next thing to dry.

[Lorelai]

She had no idea why he was laughing and so at first, she wrongly assumed that he was laughing at her. She knew her reaction to him leaving was stupid, but she couldn't help it and if she didn't feel silly before, she certainly felt silly now. As he began to talk though, her mind was set at ease. Robin had a way about him that helped to right Lorelai. He had that worldly view that she just hadn't developed living in her little Hoshkosh bubble.

She continued to wash the crockery and pass the pieces to Robin but when he finished speaking, instead of placing the next dish into his hand, she placed her own hand instead. Her skin was hot to the touch but he likely wouldn't mind the wetness of it, seeing as how he'd been taking wet china from her up until this point.

"I'm sorry to hear about your upbringing Robin. Knowing that though, I think you even braver than I did before. Please know that you will always have me, I mean us, should you need us."

She quickly adjusted her words as she didn't want to sound like some soppy teenager, the sort she'd read about in books. Despite her family’s best efforts, Lorelai had still managed to get her hands on and read a fair few young adult books when she was younger. Even now she had a romance novel hidden away in her secret place.

Lorelai squeezed his hand gently and looked into his eyes before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. It wasn't really appropriate for her to be hugging him like this in the family kitchen but she'd done far worse in the past and so didn't care that she'd be scolded if anyone came in. As she held him, she buried her face in his neck, breathed him in and let out a small whimper.

"I'm going to miss you Robin."

Her voice was strained but full of emotion. She would indeed miss him and her words rang true. She struggled to keep herself and her emotions under control now as she stood so close to him and only just managed to avoid crying on his shoulder.

[Robin Little]

The emotion-filled reaction that Robin got from Lorelai was not expected. He had not told her his background to gain pity, and had he realised that was the reaction he would have got, he might not have shared. There was the urge to correct her. No way did he think he was brave, by any stretch of the imagination. Never had been scared, not really. You don’t have time to be scared when you’re just living in the moment. You have to have your wits about you. There was stress, yes. Lots and lots of stress. He was forced to grow up before he had the chance to even be a child, but then that wasn’t a good thing. In a lot of ways he still was a child. He hadn’t grown out of his dependence on other people. Rather than cultivate his own independence, he’d instead thrust the dependence he was supposed to have on his mother onto other people.

And he got away with it, too. So much so that he couldn’t give up the habit. Maybe he didn’t realise it himself, but there hadn’t been a time when someone had turned around and said you’re a big boy now, Robin, you can do this for yourself. There was no parental voice in the back of his head telling him to work hard and survive on his own merits. There was just that human instinct to survive on whatever way he could – and so he did. He trusted luck, and just wandered down the path of life without any kind of goal or support. To Robin, it was just life. He didn’t complain. He didn’t think he deserved anyone’s sympathy. He didn’t think he deserved anything – but nor had he learned the ability to know when to be grateful.

Any explanation that he wanted to give, however, died on his tongue as Lorelai wrapped him in a hug. Her voice seemed close to cracking, like she was going to cry. Robin was at a complete loss. At first his hands were just limp, one holding the tea towel and the other slightly damp from wet dishes and Lorelai’s warm hand. For a few seconds he just stood there, caught off guard.

But when he did finally react it was like any person should. Whether he felt the same way or not didn’t really matter. There was an emotional girl hugging him and the only thing he could do was hug her back. His fingers splayed over her shoulder blade, the other hand still fisted around the towel. But he squeezed her so tight that he nearly pulled her up and off her feet.

”Come on, now. You’re acting like it’s the end of the world, and it’s really not. Life, you know – it throws curve balls,” he said, though he cringed at the overused cliché. His voice rumbled in his throat – and after the initial squeeze, his grip loosened – allowing Lorelai out of the hug whenever she wanted.

[Lorelai]

Lorelai pulled back from Robin, a look of disappointment on her face. She wasn't disappointed with the reaction she got with him, but rather she was disappointed with her herself for letting her emotions get the better of her the way she had.

"Oh... Oh my stars... Robin... Please. I'm sorry. I apologise. I should not have clung to you as I did."

She fidgeted where she stood. First by nervously re-adjusting her hair. Then by smoothing her hands over her dress. She wasn't sure where to look at this point either and so rather than look Robin in the eye, she nervously glanced about the room. There was nothing there to draw her focus and so she quickly turned her attention back to the task at hand and began doing the washing up once more.

That was stupid Lorelai. Very stupid. What did you have to go and do that for. You have limited time left with this guy and you're acting like one of those love struck teenagers you read about. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Robin avoids you for the rest of his time here now.

Lorelai let out a soft sigh. She was right. She'd made a fool of herself and she'd likely ruined any chance she had of keeping Robin as a friend. At least this was how she felt in that moment. In truth the action hadn't been that bad. She was sad to see her friend leave and such a display of emotion could only prove to him that Lorelai would in fact miss him and that her words were not hollow. Lorelai was not saying what she thought she should, given the situation. She was saying how she felt, in her heart.

[Robin Little]

”Your stars?!” Robin asked. He laughed. Sometimes Lorelai had a way of speaking that was… well, how could he blame her? She’d grown up in this place when hardly any influence from the outside world. Wrong, really, the way she’d been brought up. Maybe because he’d had so much freedom as a kid, he believed that every kid should have the same lenience. They should be allowed to make their own choices and walk their own paths. But then, Robin’s view of the world was skewed, and didn’t usually align with the more traditional views. Not that he was aware of, anyway, and definitely not here. He’d already had quite a few heated discussions with other occupants of Hoshkosh. It was one of the reasons why he thought he ought to leave, sooner rather than later. He felt like he was being smothered.

Anyway, Robin felt he had to find something to laugh at, because the best way to get past the awkwardness was to focus on something else. He waited for more dishes to dry – he wouldn’t run away from the awkwardness until after the job had been finished.

”I might have to use you for inspiration,” he said, vaguely. ”You’re an interesting spark,” he clarified, taking the first dish and slowly wiping; his eyes had glazed over, momentarily, as the phrase drifted through his mind. The light glinted from the wetness of the plate; if he squinted, and made his vision blurry, the glistening wetness looked like a thousand fragmented stars.

”Now what do you think that would be like? Having our own stars? A whole bunch of them to call our own? A whole galaxy? Would we use them only to swear on them?” he asked. He liked to ask these kinds of questions. Most of the time they were only uttered when he was high. But he wasn’t high, now. Just… being himself. He didn’t tell Lorelai that she should definitely have clung to him. She should definitely do whatever she is urged to do, because that was the only way a life should be lived. But maybe that would only perpetuate the awkwardness. So he said nothing, and wiped away the stars on the plate.