She has never been more thankful to be at home, in her own bed in her entire life. After months of travelling suddenly small town life feels like heaven. It is her first night at home, and she feels completely exhausted. She rolls over, and looks at the clock. It reminds her that it is far too late for her to be lying in her bed on a merry-go-round with racing thoughts. She flips on her lamp, and sits up in bed. The sudden wave of nausea does nothing to ease her anxieties. She tiptoes into the bathroom.
Hours later she slips out of the house, before Lorelai begins to stir. She zips through Stars Hollow. Her anxiety only rises as she pulls into a parking spot in Hartford. She presses the release on her seatbelt, and evacuates the driver's seat. She meekly enters the office, and approaches the receptionist. The next hour is full of paperwork, and processes that are all incredibly unpleasant.
When she finally arrives home, much to her chagrin her mother is awake.
"Mom?" Rory calls out.
"In here," Lorelai responds.
Rory's stomach twists into knots, as she slowly makes her way into the kitchen. When she reaches the kitchen she finds her mother sitting at the kitchen table. Lorelai's hair is neatly secured in a clip. She is fully dressed, as she sips her cup of coffee. She locks eyes with her daughter. Rory's heart, and mind race as she slowly lowers herself into the wooden chair adjacent to her mother's.
"Rory, do you want to tell me where you slinked off to first thing this morning?"
"I had an appointment that I needed to attend."
"Rory, I have given you a lot of latitude as of late. We were on this excellent adventure, but honey, the vacation is over. You have been broody, and secretive. Quite frankly, it makes me think that you are hiding something. Enough is enough. Whatever is going on with you is obviously something serious. I wish you had been able to talk to me about what was going on," Lorelai cannot maintain her composure any longer.
Rory locks eyes with her mother. Her pale face seems especially vulnerable, Lorelai realizes. Rory subtly shakes her head, wishing her mother had, at some point in her life managed to obtain some amount of tact. Rory swallows the lump in her throat. Lorelai brushes stray hair out of her face, and waits for her daughter to admit what she has suspected for months. She realizes her earlier words may have been too harsh, so she continues.
"Rory, I am your mother. I am always here for you, no matter what. Whatever it is, you can tell me."
Rory shakes her head, "It will change everything."
"Rory, whatever it is, we will get through it."
"I wanted to tell you. A hundred times over, I wanted to tell you."
"Then why haven't you?"
"At first I was just scared. I thought I would feel better about telling you, eventually. Scared became petrified."
"And petrified?"
"Became panic level anxiety."
Lorelai reaches out, and squeezes Rory's hand. "What are you afraid of?"
"Disappointing you," Rory admits.
Lorelai scrutinizes her daughter's facial expression. She wants to tell her that she could never disappoint her, but she has always relished in the fact that she doesn't lie to her daughter. She knows what is coming, and no matter how much she wants to feel differently, no matter how much she loves her daughter, she knows the disappointment is coming. Lorelai clears her throat, and prepares herself for the difficult conversation she is about to have.
"No matter what you do, or have done I will always love you. I will always support you. You are my daughter, and nothing you ever do is going to change the love that I have for you," she expresses candidly, as her eyes begin to well with tears.
Rory looks at her mother. She can see that her eyebrows are gathered closely together, and her forehead is wrinkled. Lorelai has dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes are bloodshot, as if she has already be crying. Rory surveys her surroundings, and she realizes that there is a box of tissues next to her mother. On the other side is a pile of used tissues. Between them is a spiral bound notebook, which has a worn purple cover. Suddenly she feels betrayed.
"Did you read this?" She asks, feeling outraged.
"I considered it. I spent a lot of hours contemplating completely betraying your trust, and violating the principles on which our relationship is found on. I didn't want to do that. At the same time, I wrestled with it, because I kept thinking of the phrase, quid pro quo. Let's face it, you have already violated one of the largest principles of our relationship. You violated my trust, and that isn't something that I take very lightly."
"Did you read this?" Rory's face grows red, as her nostrils flare.
"Rory I wouldn't do that to you. I did not read your journal, even though you gave me plenty of cause to."
"You didn't read it?"
"No."
"I don't really know how to even begin to say what needs to be said," Rory admits.
"An apology would be my recommendation."
"Mom, I am profoundly sorry for lying to you. I was thinking only of myself. You have always respected me enough to be honest with me, and discuss things with me. I am sorry that I did not pay you the same respect."