Chapter Text
Once I was a dancer
And I was just a kid
And you took all that from me
I had a lot to give
A month could either crawl or vanish in a blink, and that September seemed determined to do both at once. For the Gilmore household, it came as a whirlwind, a rush of overlapping routines, unexpected news, and emotional undercurrents that Lorelai barely had time to track. Between Ellie's needs, the nonstop demands at the Inn, and Stars Hollow functioning as Stars Hollow always did, she found herself constantly moving, constantly juggling, constantly exhausted. The divorce of Dean and Lindsay had erupted into the front page of town gossip, the kind that traveled from porch to porch and counter to counter faster than anyone could reasonably keep up with. Lorelai tried not to dwell on it, but the topic pressed at her mind whenever she paused for too long. When she finally told Rory, she watched the expression on her daughter's face shift, watched the familiar gears start turning in that quiet, analytical way Rory had. But Rory hardly said a word. She was polite but vague, thoughtful but distant, and Lorelai hated that evasiveness. She knew it was sensitive, she knew it would hurt, but she still wished Rory would let her in.
Rory, for her part, had her head buried in the start of her sophomore year at Yale, and she did not want to revisit the tangled mess she had made back in the summer. She told herself she wanted to be focused, to be disciplined, to start fresh. But ever since Lorelai mentioned the divorce, something fragile inside her tugged and twisted. She caught herself thinking about Dean at odd moments, remembering things she had desperately tried to fold away. He had called her a couple of times, clearly wanting to talk, but the conversations were stiff, strange, loaded. She felt lonely in a quiet, aching way she did not want to acknowledge. And beneath that loneliness lived confusion, heavy and uncomfortable. So much had happened between them, too much in fact, and she had no idea how to make sense of any of it. She was starting a brand new semester without a summer internship, without anything academic she could point to with pride, and with a knot of unresolved feelings she kept shoving to the back of her mind.
So when she told her mother that she just wanted to focus on school that moment and not think about it again, Lorelai respected it. And honestly? She was relieved. As much as she loved Rory, as much as she wanted to be supportive, she did not know if she could stomach watching her daughter slip back into something with Dean after what happened. Not when their affair had almost certainly helped push a marriage to its breaking point.
And while all of that swirled quietly in the background, life at home moved on in ways that warmed Lorelai more than she expected. Ellie was doing significantly better with Luke. The shift had been gradual but constant; she was back at loving him, back to watching him with that wide, amazed expression that always melted Lorelai from the inside out. Lorelai and Luke were good too, steady in a way she had not felt in years. There were still moments of awkwardness, of uncertainty, but there was something grounding between them now, something gentle and dependable. For the first time in her life, Lorelai felt like every corner of her world was occupied. Family, work, love. She felt… complete. Balanced. A feeling she had never known how to hold before.
Well, maybe not entirely balanced. There was still her parents, circling around their dramatic separation with all the grace of a hurricane. Richard and Emily shared a temper, a biting pride, and a stubbornness that could rival the whole population of Stars Hollow. But now, with them living apart, Lorelai could see the cracks in their armor. She could see the longing in each of them, the discomfort of trying to exist without the other after more than three decades of intertwined routine. It was like watching two dancers stumble when the music stopped. And it tested her patience. They needed to decide already. Get a divorce or get back together.
With her father keeping himself busy and her mother desperate for structure, Emily had announced that once every fifteen days she wanted to have a Grandma Time to bond with her granddaughters. It was formal, structured, and very Emily. That usually meant Rory and Ellie both going to the mansion for the afternoon, something Rory did not mind even though she felt she had banked a decade's worth of Emily time during their summer in Europe. Mostly, she agreed because Ellie loved it and Lorelai trusted Rory. She trusted her mother too, in the broader sense at least, but after the tea party fiasco that had left Ellie so shaken, Lorelai still carried a wary knot in her stomach. She did not fear for Ellie's safety, not literally, but Emily could be intense, forceful, overwhelming, and Ellie had fragile places that needed gentleness.
Still, Ellie enjoyed those afternoons. She came home smelling faintly of Emily’s perfume, carrying fancy cookies and stories about the pond or the gardens. And the truth was, Lorelai appreciated the effort. She appreciated the connection being built. She also appreciated the rare bliss of having the house to herself for a few hours, a luxury she used to take for granted.
If all that family drama was not enough to keep the universe spinning, Stars Hollow was in the middle of its own political meltdown. Jackson had decided, in a burst of fed-up pride and pure farmer boldness, to run against Taylor in the mayoral election. No one had ever challenged Taylor before, even though half the town spent their days complaining about him. So Jackson throwing his hat into the ring was basically a declaration of World War III. Sookie was frantic, juggling Davey, work, cooking, and helping Jackson with his last-minute campaign. Lorelai tried to help where she could, but with Ellie glued to her hip most days, it was harder than she wished. But in the end, Jackson won anyway, and the town let out a collective breath of fresh air. Even if he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, at least it was something new.
That specific Thursday was one of those days that felt three days long. The Inn had been packed, fall reservations were starting to flood in, and Lorelai had spent hours darting between the front desk, the kitchen, and whatever emergency Michel had theatrically announced every half hour. She was bone tired, feet aching, brain buzzing. But beneath the exhaustion there was this little hum of excitement. The holidays were coming. Her first holiday season as an actual business owner, her and Sookie’s name on the sign, their food, their rooms, their chaos. They had a thousand plans brewing, but for that night, all Lorelai really wanted was something quiet. Just her and Ellie and a movie, letting her mind stop racing for a couple of hours.
Thursdays had accidentally become their thing. Therapy days. Lorelai tried to keep the evenings slow, gentle. She usually let Ellie stay up past her bedtime on those nights, just a little, so they could curl up on the couch together. After dinner and bath time, with Ellie warm from her pajamas and smelling like baby shampoo, they would pick a movie and make a nest of blankets in the living room. It was their way of smoothing out the emotional edges that therapy sometimes stirred up.
Tonight was no different. Ellie was squeaky clean, tummy full, wearing soft pajamas with little stars on them, sitting in the middle of the living room rug with her legs crisscrossed and her hair still a little damp at the ends. She was very serious about the ritual of choosing the movie, turning the pages of her special DVD case like it was a spellbook. The case itself was one of her favorite things: purple, glittery, packed with stories. Paddington rubbing shoulders with Ariel, Buzz Lightyear nestled next to Belle. Eleven months of Lorelai’s impulse buying and deliberate curating, building a small library of comfort and magic just for her.
“Miss Ellie, have you picked one for today yet?” Lorelai asked, fluffing the blankets all around them on the couch, creating their usual fort of pillows and quilts.
“I want this one, pwease.” Ellie said, turning the case around with both hands and pointing carefully at Barbie and the Nutcracker. The plastic cover caught the lamplight, ballerinas frozen mid-twirl.
Lorelai smiled and took the DVD from the sleeve, the motion easy and familiar. “You've been liking this a lot, huh?” she asked, crossing to the TV to slide the disc into the player.
“Yes. They twirl pwetty.” Ellie affirmed, already climbing up onto the couch, trying to find the perfect angle among her pillows and plushies. Once she settled in the middle, she tipped her head back to look at Lorelai. “Mommy, I want cocoa, pwease.”
Her big honey eyes caught the glow from the television as the menu screen came up, and as always, Lorelai felt her heart give that little soft, ridiculous squeeze. No matter how tired she was, no matter how stressful the day had been, that face could turn her to absolute mush in under a second. She was so beautiful. So hers.
Lorelai sighed in mock defeat, but her smile was genuine. She tugged the blanket aside so she could stand. “Well your wish is my command, my little Clara.” she said, giving a playful little bow before heading toward the kitchen to make her hot cocoa.
She moved around the small kitchen on autopilot, grabbing milk, cocoa powder, the chipped mug with the tiny snowman Ellie liked. As she stirred the mixture on the stove, she heard the front door lock click, the sound sharp in the quiet house. Lorelai frowned, hand pausing on the spoon. It was late for visitors.
Before she could even step out to check, a high delighted voice rang through the house. “Wory!”
Lorelai’s shoulders instantly relaxed. She smiled to herself, turning off the burner and picking up the mug. Rory usually didn't come home on Thursdays, which made the surprise a little odd, but not unwelcome. She carried the cocoa back to the living room, the confusion still creasing her brow, but the worry gone.
“Hi, Ellie!” Rory exclaimed, already halfway into the living room. Lorelai stepped into the doorway just in time to see Ellie practically fling herself at her big sister, tiny arms wrapped tight around Rory’s neck as Rory scooped her up and twirled once.
“Rory?” Lorelai murmured, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, a grin tugging at her lips. “Thank God, I thought it was a burglar. Thought I'd have to finally use my shovel.”
“No shovels needed today.” Rory joked as she sank onto the couch with Ellie still in her arms. Ellie wriggled free almost immediately so she could hurry over to the coffee table and grab her coloring book, which she then plopped decisively onto Rory’s lap to show off her latest masterpieces.
“Hey, did I know you were coming home?” Lorelai asked as she crossed the room and settled beside them, balancing the warm mug in her hands. She held it out toward Ellie with a little flourish. “Milk, little calf.”
“Nope.” Rory sighed, taking the coloring book with a tired smile. Lorelai took a longer look at her then. There was something in Rory’s face, in the way her shoulders slumped slightly, in the dullness in her eyes. Sadness clung to her like a faint shadow, one Lorelai recognized all too well.
“That's a nice face.” Lorelai said, eyebrows lifting just a fraction, her tone light but probing as she shifted to really look at her.
“I'm sorry, I didn't feel like driving all the way back to school tonight. I have to deal with James Joyce first thing in the morning. Is that okay?” Rory rambled, voice small in a way that made her seem fifteen again. She smiled when Ellie nestled between them with her cup, the coloring book spread open across Rory’s lap. “Wow, that's so beautiful Ellie.” Rory cheered softly, turning the pages, genuinely admiring each scribbled flower and uneven house.
“What's okay? The crashing or the dealing with James Joyce?” Lorelai asked, tucking the blanket back around Ellie's legs and draping it partially over Rory’s too, drawing them into the same little cocoon.
“Crashing.” Rory answered, eyes dropping to the page.
“Absolutely. Crash away. Need a helmet?” Lorelai teased, bumping her shoulder gently against Rory’s. She kept her tone playful, but the worry lingered in the back of her mind. Something was off. She could feel it.
“Just a pillow.” Rory whispered, eyes drifting toward the TV as Lorelai hit play. The familiar opening music started and the screen filled with glittering snowflakes. “Barbie and the Nutcracker again?” Rory asked with a small smile, watching as Ellie curled in closer, cup in mouth, lashes already getting heavy.
“Yes, she claims Barbie twirls pretty. She asked Luke to twirl her around like they did in the movie. It was quite similar.” Lorelai said, her lips quirking at the memory of Luke awkwardly spinning in the living room while Ellie giggled in his arms. Rory smiled faintly at that, but didn’t say anything more. Lorelai let the quiet stretch for a moment, listening to the soft sound of the movie and the tiny sips Ellie was taking from her cocoa. Then she took the opening, her voice gentle. “So, just curious, what brings you to this neck of the woods this fine evening?”
Rory exhaled and shrugged, inching just a little closer to both her mother and her sister, as if drawn to their warmth without quite meaning to. “Nothing I just… Missed home.”
“Alright.” Lorelai drew the word out, not fully convinced, but willing to let it sit for now. She knew the signs. Rory would talk when she was ready. Forcing it never worked. “Okay, I'm hungry, who wants Pop-Tarts?” she announced, already pushing herself off the couch, letting the mood shift to something lighter as she padded back toward the kitchen.
It was only when they were halfway through Barbie and The Nutcracker, the room dim except for the gentle glow of the TV, that Rory finally spoke. Ellie had long since surrendered to sleep, curled in the softest little heap against Lorelai’s chest, her cheek pressed to the fabric of her mother’s sweater and her tiny hand still clutching the corner of a blanket. Lorelai had been rhythmically rubbing small circles on her daughter’s back without even realizing it, letting the warmth and weight of the toddler calm her.
So when Rory suddenly said, “Dean and Lindsay got divorced,” her voice slicing through the quiet, Lorelai startled slightly, blinking at her daughter in surprise.
“What?” she asked, her voice soft so she would not jostle the sleeping toddler.
“Dean and Lindsay got divorced.” Rory repeated, more firmly this time.
“I know that, hon. I was your messenger on that subject.” Lorelai murmured back, trying to lighten the air with a teasing tone. “Why are you saying that to me?”
“Because…” Rory drew in a deep breath, shifting her position on the couch so she could angle herself more toward Lorelai. The movement made the cushions dip slightly, and Lorelai adjusted Ellie in her arms. “Dean called me a couple days ago.”
“He did?” Lorelai kept her voice even, but it was an effort to keep her eyebrows from shooting to her hairline.
“Yes. And we chatted a little and it was nice and familiar. He told me he divorced Lindsay and I asked how he was. We talked for hours.” Rory explained quietly, and Lorelai concentrated on smoothing Ellie’s curls so she would not let her growing irritation show. In her mind, she was cycling through an impressive list of painful and lethal ways to remove Dean from the planet. “Yesterday he called again saying he was thinking about me. He wanted to know if I'd like to try again.”
“Try again… Like sleeping together?” Lorelai frowned before she could stop herself.
“No, mom!” Rory sounded offended, her voice pitching slightly. “Try again, like a relationship.”
“Oh okay, sorry I got confused. Go on.” Lorelai corrected herself quickly, continuing to move her hand in gentle circles over Ellie’s back. Somehow the steady rise and fall of the toddler’s breath grounded her.
“So, to be honest I kept thinking about him since… That night. But I didn't do anything because he was married and the way it happened was a mistake. But now… I don't know, it got me thinking if it's worth trying again.” Rory admitted, her eyes flickering down to her hands. “That's why I'm here tonight.”
“Why? You think better at home? That's unfortunate since you're a Yale student.” Lorelai joked softly, and she felt some relief when Rory let out a tiny chuckle.
“No, I came here to see him. I was thinking that maybe if we talked face to face I could decide if it was worth giving it a chance again.” Rory confessed. Her voice was quiet, weighed down. After that she let out a long sigh and stared at her fingers, twisting them absently. Lorelai tilted her head, studying her daughter with concern.
“So? Did you talk to him?” Lorelai asked. When Rory shook her head, Lorelai’s frown deepened. “Why not?”
“I saw Lindsay.” Rory shrugged, her shoulders drooping slightly.
“Oh.”
“She was getting home and I just sat there, looking at her. That got me thinking that maybe this isn't a good idea, I don't know if I'm going to be able to be with Dean again and not think about Lindsay. About what happened… But then, I remember that we were something before Lindsay.” Rory rambled, her words tumbling out fast the way they always did when her anxiety spiked. Lorelai reached over and squeezed her knee gently. “I just… I don’t know. For tonight I decided that I don't want to deal with it.”
“You should make a pro con list.” Lorelai teased, hoping humor would ease Rory’s tension.
“Mom…” Rory rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth lifted.
“What? You do this all the time, maybe it'll help you decide.” Lorelai reasoned, opening her arm so Rory could tuck herself against her side. Rory leaned in immediately, resting her head against Lorelai’s shoulder while Ellie stayed nestled in her lap. Lorelai held both of them with a natural ease. “Don't worry about it, babe. Think about what's best for you not only for now, but for the future. If Dean's just so you can fill some void, make you feel less lonely, just wait a little longer, I'm sure some great guy will do you so good.”
“Dirty.” Rory muttered, smirking, and Lorelai giggled softly.
“You get what I mean.” she said.
“I do.” Rory murmured, settling even deeper against her mother, watching Lorelai stroke Ellie’s hair gently. After a moment she asked, “So, how was therapy today?”
“Very good, Ellie-belly is doing better each day.” Lorelai said with a soft, proud smile as she looked down at the peacefully sleeping toddler. “Dr. Sawyer said that she thinks it's time that Ellie improves her social skills a little more.”
“What does that mean?” Rory asked with a confused frown. “Will you put her in daycare?”
“Not yet. As much as that would help me, we think she's not ready for that kind of environment yet. But, Dr. Sawyer suggested that we do some kind of activity with her, something where she can make other friends, explore new things but still have me around, so she knows she's not being abandoned. The Dr. mentioned how sometimes daycare or even school can look a lot like the shelters she's been in during that one month I was fighting for her guard… Bunch of kids together.”
“It can trigger her.” Rory realized, and Lorelai nodded.
“Yes. But she mentioned maybe doing some sports or something.” Lorelai said, watching Ellie’s tiny lips parted slightly in sleep.
“She's a Gilmore. She doesn't do sports.” Rory declared as if announcing a universal law, and Lorelai chuckled.
“No she doesn't. But, have you seen the way she looks at the dancers when we pass through Miss Patty’s?” Lorelai asked, then added, “I was thinking maybe putting her on ballet, or some kind of dance. I'd be with her during the classes, Miss Patty is someone she already knows and likes. She'd be killing energy and making new friends.”
Rory perked up immediately. “I think it's a great idea! Ellie loves to watch ballet movies.” She pointed toward the TV, where Barbie was mid twirl again, and Lorelai let out a quiet giggle. “Plus how cute would she be in pink leotards and ballet slippers?”
“An insane amount of cute.” Lorelai smiled. “I'll take her to an experimental class tomorrow. Patty told me they have baby ballet every Friday morning, I'm sure she'll love to have Ellie.”
True to her word, the next morning Lorelai and Ellie walked hand in hand toward Luke's. The fall air was crisp enough to redden their cheeks, and the ground was dotted with leaves that crunched under Ellie's tiny boots with every enthusiastic skip. Lorelai, who had already taken close to a thousand pictures of her daughter in the last twenty four hours, could not stop admiring her. Ellie was dressed for her first baby ballet class with complete seriousness: a neat little ballet bun Lorelai had smoothed and pinned herself, a pale pink leotard that hugged her small frame, matching tights, a soft fluttery skirt, and her slippers tucked carefully inside her bag. The coat Lorelai insisted she wear was buttoned only halfway, because Ellie had refused to fully cover her outfit, but Lorelai considered that a parenting victory for a chilly October morning.
Every few steps someone from Stars Hollow stopped them. Lulu practically melted on the sidewalk, leaning down to gush over the perfectly coiled bun. When they passed Doose’s, Babette nearly keeled over with dramatic gasps, grabbing her chest and declaring she had never seen anything so adorable in her life. The best part was that Ellie did not hide behind Lorelai’s legs or burst into tears like she might have months before. Instead she looked up at each person shyly but bravely, offering a tiny smile or a little wave, her confidence blooming like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
Lane was the next to spot them. As soon as Lorelai pushed open the door to Luke's, the bell jingled and Lane glanced up from setting plates on a nearby table.
“Good morning, you two. Luke's in the kitchen.” she said with her usual chipper warmth. When Lorelai unbuttoned Ellie’s coat and slipped it off, Lane’s whole face lit up. “Wow, look at you, all pink from head to toe.”
“I have ballet today.” Ellie announced proudly as she followed her mom to their usual table, where a booster seat was already in place as if waiting for her.
“Really? Can you show me your best ballet twirl?” Lane asked. Ellie immediately lifted her arms into a little circle above her head, then spun with all the focus and grace a toddler could muster. Lane giggled, and Lorelai laughed softly with her. “I think her future's set.”
“I'm calling Bolshoi today.” Lorelai joked as she settled at the table. Lane was already moving to start Lorelai’s coffee and Ellie's warm milk without needing a word.
A couple of minutes later, Luke emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. The moment he saw them, his face softened, especially when his eyes landed on Ellie’s pink explosion of an outfit. “Look who it is, our flannel man.” Lorelai teased, and then her cheeks warmed when he leaned down to kiss her once, then again.
“Good morning.” he murmured.
“Morning.” she replied, smiling back at him like it was instinct.
When Luke looked toward Ellie, the toddler squealed, her face lighting up. Before Lorelai could even process it, Ellie launched herself out of her booster seat and straight into Luke’s arms. Lorelai nearly yelped, her heart stopping, but Luke’s reflexes were fast enough to catch her effortlessly.
“Oh, hey, kid. Good morning to you too.” he said with a grunt, settling her comfortably on his hip.
“Mommy's taking me to ballet today.” Ellie informed him, already tugging off his cap with both hands and setting it crookedly back on his head. Luke did not even blink.
“Yeah, I heard. Are you excited?” he asked, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Yes! Can you twirl me like a ballewina?” Ellie begged, bouncing in his arms. But then she remembered her manners, even if a second late. “Pwease?”
Luke looked around the diner, where several townies were already watching shamelessly, forks paused halfway to their mouths. He muttered, “Well, I have a diner full of people who'll definitely be going to talk about it but…” Then he looked back down at Ellie, at her wide brown eyes and rosy cheeks and the pure enthusiasm radiating from her tiny frame. He sighed, defeated. “To hell with it…”
He gently set her down.
“Yay!” Ellie squealed, grabbing his hands as Lorelai smiled from overwhelming cuteness. Luke twirled her slowly in a circle, then a little faster, the toddler giggling so hard she almost snorted. Every pair of eyes in the diner was glued to them, but Lorelai did not care, and Luke clearly did not either. All that mattered in that moment was Ellie’s laughter ringing through the room.
“Alright, that's enough. You'll get dizzy.” Luke said, scooping her back up and setting her in her booster seat again.
“Ballewinas don't get dizzy.” Ellie declared with all the seriousness of a seasoned philosopher, and Lorelai laughed.
“Well, then I'll get dizzy.” Luke replied, his voice gruff but undeniably amused.
He took their orders, then returned a few minutes later with their plates. Lorelai reached out and placed her hand lightly on his forearm, her touch lingering, “Hey, are you free tomorrow?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with something secret.
“Why? Are you asking me out on a date?” Luke teased back.
Lorelai playfully swatted his arm. “More like a celebration than a date.”
“What are we celebrating?” he asked, the humor fading into genuine curiosity.
“Well, my friend, tomorrow marks exactly one year that I came to the diner late at night with a smelly little bundle in my arms.” Lorelai said softly. Her voice was playful, but her eyes shimmered with emotion. Luke’s expression shifted instantly, his features softening as he sat down beside her.
“Wow, one year already?” Luke asked quietly, remembering that night with perfect clarity: Lorelai trembling, Ellie bruised and terrified, his entire world tilting as he helped them through the long hours at the hospital.
Ellie, oblivious to the emotional weight of their conversation, was tearing her pancakes into tiny pieces with her fingertips, humming the intro to some animated movie. Lorelai watched her for a long moment, her throat tight. “One year.” she whispered, letting the words settle deep. Eight pounds of fear had become a confident little ballerina in pink.
She only snapped out of her thoughts when Luke’s hand slid gently onto her thigh, warm and steady. She looked at him, gave him a grateful smile, and continued. “Rory will be in town too, I was thinking maybe we could catch some movie, grab some ice cream…”
“The ice cream part I'll pass but will be happy to pay for it.” he grumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. Lorelai leaned over and kissed the corner of his lips. “Seven sharp?”
“You can try, you know I'm never ready.” Lorelai said lightly, and Luke gave her thigh a soft squeeze before standing and heading back behind the counter.
Lorelai watched Ellie hop her little feet under the table while she ate, her tiny purple painted nails gripping pancake pieces with complete concentration. Her heart swelled painfully in her chest.
“Mommy?” Eleanor chirped, unaware of how emotional her mother felt just from watching her exist.
“Yes, sweets?”
“Do ballewinas get weally dizzy?” Ellie asked, tilting her head as if pondering the deepest mysteries of the universe.
Lorelai giggled, reaching over to fix the bow clipped over Ellie’s ballet bun. “Well, I guess they get dizzy, but they're really good at pretending they're not.” she explained gently. Ellie nodded as if this were profound wisdom, her little brow furrowing in deep, thoughtful concentration.
The little girl had been buzzing with excitement since the second her eyes opened that day, her energy winding through the house like a warm current. All morning long she had been sunshine. But the moment Lorelai pushed the heavy studio door open and the familiar scent of rosin and old wooden floors drifted out, everything changed. The soft hum of the room hit them at once: chattering toddlers whose voices bounced off mirrored walls, the squeak of tiny shoes sliding unevenly across the floor, Miss Patty’s bright, booming greeting from across the room. It was too much at once. Too loud, too full of everything.
Ellie froze mid-step.
Her little hand latched tightly onto Lorelai’s jeans, her fingers curling deep into the denim as if anchoring herself. Her back went rigid, her tiny shoulders tensing, and her honey-colored eyes flared wide the way they always did when her world grew bigger, louder, faster than she was ready for.
Lorelai felt that tug immediately. She crouched down beside her, bringing their heads to the same level. The fluorescent lights overhead reflected softly off Ellie’s pale pink leotard, and Lorelai smoothed her hand over the fabric in a slow, comforting gesture.
“Here we are, sweetheart. Are you excited?” she whispered, letting the words fall gentle and warm. Ellie always responded better to softness than anything else.
Ellie pressed her cheek against Lorelai’s shoulder, grounding herself in the familiar scent of her mother’s sweater. She shook her head, small and hesitant, her eyes flicking nervously toward the cluster of other kids running around in an uncoordinated but somehow charming mess. The bright lights overhead were a little too sharp, the echo of music bouncing around made the room feel big, and being surrounded by strangers her size seemed to overwhelm her completely.
“Too loud.”
“It's just the kids talking. Nothing to be scared of,” Lorelai murmured, placing Ellie's tiny bag on the floor beside them. She carefully adjusted the sheer skirt around Ellie’s waist so it fell just right. “And Miss Patty's here. You know Miss Patty,” she reminded her gently.
She turned Ellie just enough so she could see Patty waving enthusiastically from across the room, her smile bright and inviting. Patty always held this warm mix of glitter and chaos that made kids feel like they were entering their own personal stage.
“See? Someone you already love. And we won’t do anything you don’t want to, I swear. If you look around and decide this isn’t for you today, we just grab our coats and leave. Deal?”
Ellie peeked up, her little chin wobbling slightly. “You stay?” The tremble in her voice tugged at Lorelai’s heart in that familiar way. She kissed Ellie’s forehead, brushing her lips over the soft baby hairs there before taking her hand.
“Of course I'll stay. Do you think I'd miss tiny dancers jumping around?” she joked lightly as they slowly stepped inside the studio.
Lorelai guided her toward one of the benches, where she helped Ellie sit down, her daughter’s feet swinging shyly above the floor as she squirmed under the weight of all the unfamiliar eyes and noises. Lorelai slipped the ballet slippers out of the tote bag and gently took Ellie’s foot, sliding the shoe on while Ellie kept looking around with quick, wary glances.
“Well, look who is here, good morning Miss Eleanor.” Patty swooped over with all the grandeur of a Broadway star making her entrance. “I'm glad you could join us today.”
“We’re still getting there, Patty,” Lorelai said with a soft laugh, exchanging a knowing kind of smile.
“Don't you worry, darling. Half of these kids were shy at their first classes and look at them now,” Patty declared. As if on cue, Lorelai watched a toddler attempt to climb the piano bench and then the piano itself. Patty gasped, hands flying up. “James, what did I tell you about climbing the piano?” she scolded dramatically, lifting the child off with theatrical efficiency.
Lorelai tugged the drawstring on Ellie’s slipper tighter and tied it neatly before squeezing her daughter’s little knees. “See? All kids get shy, sometimes. It's okay,” she whispered.
Ellie eyed the children once more like they were unpredictable woodland creatures.
“Alright kids, let's all gather in the center of the room,” Patty called out. Instantly, boys and girls dressed in tiny ballet outfits shuffled and skipped and ran toward her, chattering simultaneously about the most random things.
“Are you ready, baby?” Lorelai stood and extended her hand. Ellie took it, slid off the bench, and stood close—very close—but her feet stayed planted, her body glued to Lorelai’s side.
“Mommy, I want you with me.” Her voice was small, the same fearful tone she had used the first night she ever saw her, the same one-year-ago look in her eyes that pleaded for safety.
Lorelai smiled softly, squeezing her hand. “I'll stay right beside you. I'll maybe even do a pretty twirl.”
The corner of Ellie’s mouth twitched at that. Lorelai caught the tiny flicker of courage there and held it gently, protectively, as Ellie turned back toward Patty and the other kids.
She took a big, shaky breath. Then another.
And finally, with Lorelai just inches behind her, Ellie took a single uncertain step toward the center.
Miss Patty—who had probably taught ballet to half the babies in Stars Hollow over the past few decades—didn’t comment, didn’t fuss, didn’t try to push her into line. She simply smiled, her attention focused on the group while leaving a quiet, open space right where Ellie stood. She clapped her hands loudly and began spinning an elaborate story about fairy princesses, enchanted forests, and magical slippers.
Ellie stayed tucked against Lorelai’s hip at first, her cheek pressed to Lorelai’s sweater, her fingers clinging lightly to the fabric. Her eyes followed every movement like she wanted to understand all of it at once. Lorelai rested a hand on her daughter’s back, her palm warm and steady, feeling every slow, tentative breath Ellie took.
Then a girl with pigtails giggled and spun in a clumsy circle, her pink skirt spiraling outward. Another boy jumped so enthusiastically he landed on his backside, laughing loudly. Ellie’s lips twitched—then curved into a small, honest smile. That soft spark, the one Lorelai treasured so deeply, flickered in her eyes.
“Do you want to try?” Lorelai whispered. “You can stay right in front of me. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Ellie hesitated, her fingers flexing around Lorelai’s sweater, then let go just enough to take one tiny, brave step forward. Still close, still within reach, but out in the room.
Miss Patty raised her arms theatrically. “And then all the little snowflakes began to twirl!”
The children spun around her like mismatched spinning tops, wobbling and giggling. Ellie watched them for a long moment before lifting her own arms—barely, just a few inches—and doing the smallest, shyest turn. It was enough to make Lorelai’s throat tighten with pride.
As minutes passed, Ellie drifted a few inches farther into the group. Then a few inches more. She would check back every thirty seconds, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Lorelai was still there. And every time, Lorelai smiled, gave her a thumbs-up, or blew her a tiny kiss.
Halfway through the lesson, Ellie was trying every instruction Patty gave, her version of pliés looking more like enthusiastic bounces, her arms floating in crooked little arcs as she copied Patty’s movements.
A girl with pigtails tapped Ellie’s shoulder. “Hi, who are you?”
“I'm Ellie.” She clasped her hands anxiously, but the girl just shrugged.
“I'm Tina. Your bow fell off.” She held out the pink ribbon like a peace offering.
Ellie blinked. And just like that, she had a friend.
Moments later, a little boy waddled up and handed her a sparkly wand that they were using during the class. “You wanna be my fwiend?” he asked.
Lorelai recognized him instantly. James, the piano climber. Two friends, within minutes.
By the end of class, Ellie was twirling. Not the tiny, shy spins from earlier—real twirls like she did at home. Full, delighted little circles that made her skirt flare out as her giggles rang louder than the music. Lorelai stood in the corner with her hands clasped softly against her chest, watching her little girl who had clung to her ten minutes earlier now dance freely across the room, brave in her own gentle way.
Every time Ellie completed a turn, she checked for Lorelai. And Lorelai was always right there, smiling like her heart had grown three sizes.
When the class ended, Ellie was flushed and sweaty, her bun slipping sideways, her cheeks glowing. But her smile was radiant—bright enough that Lorelai felt the warmth of it like sunlight.
They had done something right today.
In fact, Ellie enjoyed the ballet class so much that she talked about it the entire walk back home, chattering nonstop even though Lorelai had been standing right there beside her the whole time and had witnessed every twirl and wobble firsthand. Lorelai just let her go on, smiling at the way Ellie’s words tumbled out of her in excited little bursts, her hands waving in the air to reenact moments from class while her feet skipped lightly over the fallen leaves of late October.
After a whole afternoon where Ellie went to the Dragonfly with her mother and charmed Sookie with the same tales about the ballet class, they got home and Lorelai got her upstairs and started running Ellie’s bath, the toddler was still replaying every detail. Warm steam filled the bathroom, curling around them as Ellie sat surrounded by her bath toys. Lorelai gently scrubbed the little girl’s curls, massaging her scalp in slow circles while Ellie made her rubber duck swim across the water.
“I was afwaid befowe…” Ellie murmured suddenly, her voice softer now, thoughtful, as she watched the bath water ripple around her hands.
“Oh yeah, I know.” Lorelai smiled, her tone warm but understanding. She let the bath toy float for a moment so she could tilt Ellie’s head back just slightly, her fingers carding through the wet curls tenderly. “What made you less scared?”
“They were only dancing so it's not scawy, Miss Patty is funny… And you were thewe.” Ellie’s explanation was simple but full of truth, her small shoulders rising and falling with a tiny shrug. She closed her eyes as Lorelai gently rinsed the shampoo from her hair, her face completely trusting as the water slid down her back. “So I was not alone.”
“No, you weren't.” Lorelai whispered, her heart squeezing a little at the weight those words carried for someone so young. No child should understand that kind of loneliness, yet Ellie knew it in a way she should never have had to. Lorelai kept her hands steady, kept her voice soft. “Does that mean that we'll go back next week?”
“Yes!” Ellie declared, bouncing once, sending a splash of water over the side of the tub and onto Lorelai’s sweater.
Apparently, the news was just as exciting for Emily and Rory as it was for her. After Lorelai recovered from the mild shock of discovering that her mother had bought a panic room, she laughed so hard she nearly snorted, teasing Emily endlessly. Once the chaos quieted, the girls settled in the formal living room for drinks before dinner. Emily, as always, tried to evade any questions about where Richard was this time, answering stiffly that he was out of town but she did not know where because they were separated. Her tone made it clear the topic was closed, and so she redirected her attention to the girls.
Lorelai talked about the Inn, recounting the current week’s construction snafu with dramatic hand gestures. Rory talked about Yale, her classes, and a professor who managed to make medieval literature weirdly entertaining. Ellie perched politely beside her mommy, her back straight, her tiny hands folded neatly in her lap the way she always did in Emily’s pristine living room. When Rory leaned toward her with a warm grin and asked, “How was ballet class today?” the little girl’s face brightened instantly.
“Fun!” Ellie murmured, the excitement bubbling through even if she stayed slightly reserved in her grandmother’s house. Lorelai smiled, reaching over to fix Ellie’s tiara, the one she insisted on wearing to Friday Night Dinner. Emily watched the interaction with a mix of fondness and curiosity.
“Ballet class?” Emily asked, raising an impeccably shaped eyebrow.
“Oh yes, we started yesterday. Her therapist suggested that we do something to help her with her social skills.” Lorelai explained, and Emily nodded thoughtfully.
“Well, very good. Ballet is a great way to express yourself, it also builds coordination and discipline.” Emily said, her voice softer than usual as she regarded Ellie, who stared back at her with big attentive eyes. “Which is why your mother never liked it when she was your age.”
Ellie giggled immediately, and Rory’s eyes widened as she turned toward Lorelai. “Mom did Ballet?” she asked, her voice full of delighted disbelief. Ellie looked up at her too, curious, while Lorelai groaned theatrically.
“There we go…” Lorelai muttered, her shoulders sinking like she had just accepted her fate.
“She barely handled two classes.” Emily continued, ignoring Lorelai entirely. “Or to better express myself, the teacher didn't handle her.”
“That’s not true!” Lorelai gasped, ready to defend her honor, though her tone softened at the sound of Ellie’s little giggles, her daughter covering her mouth with both hands.
“Lorelai, by the second class you put peanut butter on your teacher's shoes…” Emily reminded her with a long-suffering sigh before taking a sip of her drink. Rory burst into laughter and Ellie joined her, the sound bright and sweet in the elegant room.
“Well, she deserved it, she said she could see my lunch through my leotard.” Lorelai shot back indignantly, crossing her arms like an offended preschooler. “Who the heck calls out a child for having a prominent belly? It's normal.”
“In ballet those things are important.” Emily argued mildly, but Lorelai only rolled her eyes.
“I was a toddler. Toddlers have big tummies. Rory had a tummy, Ellie has a tummy.” Lorelai lowered her gaze to the little girl beside her and reached out to squeeze Ellie’s belly gently. “Which mommy loves to kiss and squeeze by the way.” She cooed, tickling her until Ellie's giggles bubbled up again like soda pop.
“Anyway, your mother wasn't fit for ballet. She was asked to leave the class.” Emily concluded calmly.
“Well, as I say we're not much for moving our bodies.” Rory joked, shrugging helplessly.
“Especially if we're stuck in that thing over there.” Lorelai added, pointing toward the panic room door in the foyer with dramatic dismay. Emily sighed yet again.
“If we ever need it, I won't let you use it.” Emily declared with icy finality.
“Thank God.” Lorelai muttered under her breath just as the maid stepped into the room, hands folded neatly, to announce that dinner was served.
That Saturday began in the closest way possible to perfect for Lorelai, the sort of morning that slipped over her like a soft blanket. The only thing that would have made it absolutely flawless was snow, her beloved first sign from the universe that magic was on its way, but she knew it was still too early in the year for her old friend to appear. Even so, she woke wrapped in warmth, the steady heat of Luke beside her in her bed radiating through the sheets. It was something she had been getting used to over the last few months, a quiet comfort she never expected to crave, but now, on the nights he went home, she missed it embarrassingly quickly. The empty space felt colder.
She became aware of him before she fully woke, a soft trail of tiny kisses brushing over her shoulder and down her arm, each one slow and intentional. He had her pulled close, his chest pressed to her back, his breath warm against her skin. Lorelai let out a low, contented murmur before her mind caught up with the feeling. Luke chuckled, the vibration rolling through him and into her.
Only then did it occur to her that he was still actually in bed with her. “What are you doing here?” she mumbled, still heavy with sleep, her voice husky as she turned to face him.
“Good morning to you too.” Luke smiled, the corners of his mouth soft, before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
“No, I meant, weren't you supposed to be at the diner? Or did I wake too early again?” Lorelai asked, blinking toward the clock on her bedside table. The numbers glowed 8:27, which hardly qualified as too early in the Gilmore household.
“Had the day off today, Lane and Caesar are trying to get some holiday money, and the new kid I hired last week is not so bad either.” He said it quietly, shifting a little so she could nestle more comfortably against him.
Lorelai rolled fully onto his side, propping her head just slightly on his arm. “That's why you agreed to stay so easily yesterday, I was surprised I didn't use my seduction techniques on you.” She teased, remembering how effortlessly Luke had accepted the invitation to come home with her and Ellie after their Friday night dinner, how natural it had been for him to watch anything Ellie wanted with them and after she was tucked in, to drift back to the living room with Lorelai and end up spending the night.
Luke chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, no hair flip for me yesterday.” Lorelai giggled, pushing closer to kiss him again, and then one more time, savoring the presence of this man in her bed, in her morning, in her life. But as she pulled back, her eyes finally focused on something else.
“You're dressed already.” She murmured with a sleepy yawn, taking in his flannel shirt and jeans.
“Yeah, working earlier makes me wake up earlier. So I changed and started making breakfast. But, you know… We haven't told Ellie yet about our… Slumber parties, so I was afraid she was going to wake up before you.” Luke explained, his fingers slipping tenderly into the curls at the back of her head, brushing them aside with a touch that made her eyelids flutter.
“Impossible, that kid's just as lazy as me and Rory.” Lorelai muttered with a smile, leaning fully into his hand like a cat finding the perfect sunbeam.
“Well, she's expecting me to be here today to fix the window on her playhouse, so when she wakes up I'll go home to grab my toolbox and come back pretending I didn't spend the night.” Luke said, the practicality of his plan so very Luke it made her chest warm.
Lorelai sighed, her fingertip drawing slow, absent circles on his chest through his shirt. “I'll explain to her about you staying the night. I just want to ease her into it so she doesn't get too excited and can't sleep when you're here, which ruins our fun.” She added the last part lightly, but her smile gave away the truth, and Luke only chuckled again.
He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering in her hair. “Don't worry about it. I still have to go to the diner this afternoon just to check how things are going before we go to the movies. What time did you say yesterday?”
“Seven. But, I think I'll tell Rory to come sooner, I want to spend a little bit more time with her. I've been worried about her.” Lorelai sighed, shifting her position under the covers, the movement slow and weighted. Luke's hand steadied instinctively at the small of her back.
“Why? Is she okay?” His voice tightened with concern.
“It has been a lot for her since this summer, with the whole Dean situation. Guess she's feeling a bit lonely and overwhelmed.” Lorelai admitted softly, her heart tugging as she thought of Rory’s face the night before. “Yesterday she was fine at dinner, but I know her… And Dean started looking for her too, so there's that.”
“What?! What do you mean he's been looking for her? Did he go to her dorm?” Luke's tone sharpened instantly, a protective edge cutting through it, almost something close to anger, and Lorelai let out a little fond chuckle, tapping his chest lightly in reassurance.
“Relax, macho. He called her a couple of times after he got divorced, they talked but I don't think Rory's going further than that… Not this time at least.” She took a slow breath, watching the way his shoulders gradually uncoiled.
“Good, that's good… Is that good?” Luke frowned, clearly trying to navigate whether this counted as a victory or a worry.
“I don’t know, hon. That's up for Rory. What we can do is be there for her regardless of her decision.” Lorelai said thoughtfully, and Luke’s arm tightened around her with a certainty that grounded her.
“Of course.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, then patted her back lightly. “Now get up, Ellie will wake up soon.”
When afternoon settled in, Luke and Ellie were already outside at the little playhouse, both of them focused in that shared, serious way that made Lorelai smile every time she glanced their direction. Ellie hovered dutifully beside him, her tiny hands clutching a box of nails like it was priceless treasure, while Luke knelt under the crooked window frame, tools spread out around him. Their quiet chatter drifted faintly toward the house, punctuated by Ellie’s occasional, earnest “mmhm” as she helped him.
With the moment calm and her hands finally free, Lorelai eased onto the couch and picked up her phone, deciding it was a good time to call Rory. Her muscles were tired from the day, and she had slipped on her glasses for once instead of forcing her eyes to do all the work. She pushed them up her nose as the line connected.
They talked a little about Rory’s classes, Rory filling her in on readings and office hours, and Lorelai mentally tallying how long it had been since she last saw her oldest. Too long. Definitely too long. Even if it was just last night.
“So is meeting up at 5:30 cool?” Lorelai asked, shifting on the cushions until she found a comfortable spot, legs curling beneath her.
“Good with me. What do you have in mind?” Rory asked, warm and curious.
“I'll surprise you with it, but it's a classic Stars Hollow Flight of Excitement.” Lorelai said, lowering her voice with dramatic flair.
“So we're going to TP Taylor's house again?” Rory shot back, and Lorelai smiled, her chest loosening in that familiar way Rory always managed.
“Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise.” She sighed theatrically just as a second call beeped through the line. “Oh, wait, hon. Hold on a sec.”
“Okay.”
Lorelai clicked over. “Hi there,” she said in her brightest voice.
“Lorelai, are you alone?” Emily’s voice arrived sharp, tight, and unmistakably serious.
Lorelai frowned, already bracing herself. “Why?”
“Because I'm going to give you the secret code to open the panic room from the outside, and I don't want to do it if you're not alone.” Emily said, with the weight of someone about to hand over nuclear launch coordinates.
Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, Lorelai deadpanned, “Just hanging out here with my close friend Tex Watson.”
But Emily didn’t bite. “This is not a joking matter. Can I trust you with this information?”
“Maybe not. Maybe you should give it to someone else, someone closer.” Lorelai said, leaning her head against the couch cushion with a sigh.
“Well, I can't trust a neighbor.”
“How about Dad?”
“Oh, your father wouldn't come to my rescue if I was on fire. Besides, that vest of his is so loud, he wouldn't be able to hear me screaming.” Emily muttered bitterly. Lorelai’s shoulders sank; she was so tired of being in the middle of this war.
“Okay, Mom. Give me the code, and I will keep the code safe.” Lorelai said, pushing herself off the couch and walking to the living room desk to grab a notepad she absolutely did not plan to use.
“Okay. Here goes. Are you ready?”
“Pen is poised.”
“One, one, one, one, one.” Emily said it like she was reading from a classified document. Lorelai blinked.
“Is that the code it came with?” she asked, startled.
“Well, I don't know how to change it. The man was supposed to show me, and now it's the code I'm stuck with. Did you write it down?” Emily demanded, her pitch climbing with irritation.
“Barring an aneurysm, I think I'll remember it.” Lorelai muttered, rolling her eyes skyward.
“Well, factor in an aneurysm and write it down. This is important.”
“Okay, I'm writing it down.” Lorelai lied smoothly, dragging the pen across blank paper. “One, one, one, one, one.”
“Don't say it out loud.”
“Our football team's so great. We've won, won, won, won, won.” Lorelai teased, and she could practically see Emily deflating in exasperation through the phone.
“Everything's a joke.”
“No, Mom. Seriously, the mailman overheard, and I've got to get off the phone and chase him down and whack him.” Lorelai continued, but Emily cut her off.
“Hide that number.”
“I will. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Lorelai took a breath, pressed the button to return to Rory, and lifted the phone again. “I'm back. That was Mom giving me the secret panic room code.”
“She should just give it to Grandpa.” Rory said, sounding more worried than amused.
“I suggested that, but she scoffed. They should just divorce and get it over with.” Lorelai said without realizing how weighty the words were until they were already in the air.
“Don't say that.” Rory blurted, distressed.
Lorelai softened her tone immediately, walking toward the back door and pulling it open to look outside. Luke was handing Ellie the tiny screwdriver, explaining something she nodded solemnly at like he was instructing her in ancient wisdom. “I'm just talking.”
“It's not funny.” Rory insisted.
“But the standoff between them isn't good for anybody. Mom's getting more insane and sharing the insanity with me and everybody else.”
“Divorce is not the answer. I can tell you for a fact that Grandpa is miserable.” Rory said with such certainty that Lorelai paused mid-step.
“Really? He and Jeeves seem very happy in their new modern relationship.”
But Rory wasn’t in a joking mood. “Grandpa misses Grandma terribly.”
“Why? He said something like that?” Lorelai asked, glancing out the yard as Ellie proudly passed Luke another nail.
“I just know.”
“How?” Lorelai pressed, lowering herself into a chair on the back porch.
“Yesterday, when we had lunch on campus, Grandpa told me that he finished A Climb and Fall of the Roman Empire. Hm? You see?”
Lorelai frowned deeply. “You want a dement to the reference?” She shifted the chair slightly so she could watch the scene in front of her better, Luke’s large frame bent carefully beside Ellie’s tiny one.
“No one sits at home, alone, reading that book unless it's a class assignment. It just doesn't happen. It's a hunk of a long book. It's clearly a cry for help.” Rory explained.
“You're very anti-intellectual.” Lorelai murmured, smiling despite herself.
Rory continued without missing a beat. “He asked me if Grandma had taken her car in for its six-month service.”
“Hon, that's concern for her car, not for her.”
“No, it was concern about Grandma and her safety.”
“Why didn't you mention this to Mom at dinner? Maybe she would have been less panicked about what he's doing with his time than the now infamous glitter vest.” Lorelai asked, watching Luke tighten a screw as Ellie squinted at the playhouse wall like she was supervising construction.
“I didn't want to open a can of worms.”
“How would that open up a can of worms?” Lorelai wondered aloud.
“If I told her what I said, I'd have to tell her I had lunch with him, a lunch that I'd previously not informed her of, and that would have made her jealous and defensive. The less you tell Grandma the better.”
Lorelai gasped dramatically. “By George, I think she's got it.” She exclaimed so loudly that Luke and Ellie both turned to check on her. Luke saw she was only on the phone and went back to work. Ellie, copying him as always, observed Lorelai a second longer and then looked back down at the nails and wood. Lorelai’s heart swelled.
“What?” Rory asked.
“I have been trying to burn that into your brain since you were a baby, but you stubbornly resisted. Now a breakthrough. I'm so proud.”
“So 5:30, you said?” Rory redirected.
“By the gazebo. Dress is cas.”
After a breath, Rory whispered, “I really, really, really hate what's going on with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“I know, hon, but it's up to them to fix it.”
“I guess. I'll see you tonight.”
“Okay. See you tonight. Bye-bye.” Lorelai said, ending the call. She set the phone on the table beside her and exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting back to the backyard.
Despite the humor she used to shield herself, the truth pressed on her. She was worried about her parents too. Their relationship with her had always been messy, tangled with expectations and disappointments, but through all of it, she knew they loved each other more fiercely than they ever managed to express. Seeing them apart, even temporarily, felt wrong. It was hurting them, even if neither wanted to admit how deeply.
At least Ellie, Lorelai thought as she watched the little girl hold out another nail with both hands, was spared from all the chaos. Too new to the family and too young to absorb any of the tension, and Lorelai was profoundly grateful for that.
The sight of Ellie next to Luke, her tiny shoulder brushing his arm as she waited for direction, made Lorelai’s chest tighten. She still couldn’t fully believe this child was her daughter, that exactly one year had passed since that night on the dark, empty road. The fear, the shock, the cold bite of the asphalt beneath her knees as she knelt beside that fragile, trembling girl… but also the instant, overwhelming love that had bloomed inside her. It was carved permanently into her memory.
Lorelai’s life had been full of unexpected turns, sharp curves she never saw coming. But Ellie, with her honey-colored eyes, freckles dusted over soft rosy cheeks, and a laugh that made something deep inside Lorelai lift and unfurl, was by far one of the best twists of all.