Change of Scenery: Epilogue

Two years later

The whole campus was decked out for graduation with its reserved display of pomp and circumstance, including exact rows of chairs lined out in the main courtyard that were slowly filling with people or their belongings—summer sweaters, purses, and hats all acting as placeholders for loved ones there to witness their senior graduate from the hallowed and very expensive halls of Chilton Academy. Many of the graduating class were going on to the Ivy League, and most if not all would be attending one of their top three choices for their particular post-secondary experiences. It would be the last time they gathered all together as a group, a momentous occasion to be sure, made more bittersweet by all the drama, work, and personal events that each and every one of them had endured over the last few years to make it to that point.

Lorelai Gilmore was proud of two of the graduates, in particular, and had joined forces with a small army of adults who had supported her daughter and her ever-present shadow of a boyfriend over the past two years. The time since her daughter had taken up with Tristan Dugrey had been trying and wonderful, scary and elating, for all involved. Highs and lows didn't cover it. She'd wiped tears, held hands, and sat vigil. She'd laughed and cried and watched so many bad movies she couldn't count. Having missed her own graduation day, a part of her felt she'd earned her own right to be there, with this group. It was the end of an era, not only for the kids, but for her as well. Her involvement would be lesser, starting soon and growing exponentially in the coming future.

She turned to see Tristan walking toward her, his robes flowing open over his suit with cords that displayed his achievements in different subject matters flanking his chest. His mortar board was tucked neatly under his arm. "Where's Rory?"

Lorelai hitched a thumb back behind her. "Bathroom. Paris went in after her—it might be a while. Paris was zeroed in like a missile like normal, but she was misty about the eyes."

"Yeah, Paris is unusually emotional today. She hugged me and told me she would remember me fondly. You might have to go in on a rescue mission," he advised.

Lorelai smiled with pride and enough sadness that made her certain she was going to cry during the ceremony itself, no matter how much she'd promised to remain poised. It would be moving enough to see them walk the stage—but the fact that her daughter was giving the speech as the valedictorian of her class—tears were inevitable, no matter how vocally she'd protested the public waterworks. "Look at you. All cleaned up. You look very distinguished."

He leaned in closer, to a conspiratorial range. "I'm wearing Hello Kitty boxers."

She clapped with glee. "The absurdity under the grandeur of it all takes on a whole new meaning in this place. It makes me even happier to know that my daughter is behind this fashion choice."

"Did she read you her speech?" he asked as he shoved his hands into pockets that were hidden in the folds of his robe.

Lorelai pouted, if only a little. "She gave me the full-out Chinese wall. She wanted me to hear it fresh today. You?"

He shook his head. "Nope. She shut me down, too. She's nervous, but I know it'll be great."

Lorelai grasped his forearm for dramatic effect. "Tell her that about five hundred times before she goes up there, will you?"

His smile was easy and genuine. They were the two people that knew Rory best. "I will. Hey, have you seen my grandfather yet?"

Lorelai shook her head. "Not yet, but I have seats saved up in front. Sookie and Jackson are guarding over a whole row, using every last article of clothing we could spare without getting kicked out of the joint for indecency."

"They are sticklers for proper attire here. I'm lucky they haven't instituted undergarment checks," he said. "There she is," he said, instantly lightening up as Rory came into view, Paris on her heels.

Paris was emphatically expressing herself as she kept up with Rory. "I just want to wish you the best. It's time to leave that past behind us and move on. I'll be at Yale and you're leaving the country. Though the fact you're going to my namesake does indicate that you found our time together meaningful."

"Well, I guess that's one way to look at it," Rory said with a polite smile, though she seemed far more like an animal trying to gnaw off its own leg to free itself from a trap.

"So, friends?" Paris asked hopefully.

"Um, sure. I guess," Rory said, to which Paris tossed her arms around Rory and hugged her. Rory gave a jolt of surprise as arms squeezed around her with far too much emotion.

Tristan and Lorelai both cringed at the awkward display. Rory patted Paris on her arm and waited until she withdrew herself. When it took a little longer than anticipated, Rory cleared her throat. "We should probably go find our places in line."

"Yes. I'll see you out there, Gilmore," she said, reminding Rory that thanks to the alphabetical order of their names, she had little choice but to be near Paris for a few more hours of her life. "Lorelai! Hello!"

Lorelai sidestepped the hug and pointed off into the distance. "I think I see Mom and Dad. I better go get them," she said as she escaped with Paris following closely behind her.

Rory watched with wide eyes and stepped up next to Tristan. "What is wrong with Paris?"

"It's graduation. It makes some people emotional. Clearly it made Paris a hugger of all people."

"She got you, too?" Rory asked, wrapping her hands around his arm as if he were some sort of life-saving device.

"No one is immune. Though your mom is doing her best to avoid the death squeeze," he said, craning to watch as Lorelai deftly fled through the masses to avoid their classmate.

Rory smiled at him and let out a happy sigh. "We're graduating."

"They had to let us out eventually," he decreed.

"I just can't believe it's finally here. We made it," she said, with far more meaning behind her words than most. Her classmates were all eager to start the next phase in their lives, but for them it was so much more. The hurdles they'd overcome to get through it all together were hardly insignificant. Somehow even all the fuss that was being made over their shared accomplishment didn't seem like quite enough. She wasn't sure anything would ever be able to mark it properly.

"I told you we would," he reminded her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her in.

"Your robe isn't closed," she said.

"Easy access. Remember that, for later," he teased her.

"The real question is, are you wearing them?"

His eyes met hers. She had a lot of faith in him, but he hated to lose a bet. "Hello Kitty is guarding my manhood, as is my penance. I have learned my lesson—I will never again bet against your ability to judge how many Oreos Kirk can fit in his mouth at one time."

"Well, at least I'll be able to picture one person in the audience properly in their underwear while I'm giving my speech. That was the advice Grandpa gave me, to picture the whole crowd in their underwear."

"You can picture me naked, if you prefer," he offered, to which she blushed.

Rory appeared dubious. "I don't think that would help me give a speech."

"I render you speechless?"

"You know what you do to me," she said, not lightly, as she drew in closer for a kiss. She let out a squeal when the kiss went beyond a polite peck. "Don't ruin my make-up! Every person here will be looking at me later. I'm nervous enough."

"You look amazing. You'll be great."

She smiled at him gratefully as he gave her another squeeze, until they turned at the sound of their names being called. It was her mother, with a string of grandparents in tow.

Lorelai gave a little flourish behind her. "I found them all. They were ogling foreign cars in the parking lot."

"We were not ogling cars, Lorelai. We were appreciating craftsmanship and contrasting the differences in the manufacturing and detail work," her father corrected.

"They were ogling," Emily said, stepping forward to hug her granddaughter. "You look exquisite. Doesn't she look perfect, Richard, in her cap and gown?"

"She's a vision," Richard echoed.

"I made her," Lorelai boasted.

"Mom, ew," Rory said, shifting uncomfortably. Tristan, to his credit, hid his smile.

"Graduating is your achievement, and you are my greatest achievement," Lorelai said. "Besides, the mother of the valedictorian gets to crow a little."

"And how," Richard agreed.

"I'd drink to that, if only the option were available," Janlan said.

"There'll be punch after the ceremony according the official program, but we'll really get to booze it up at our place, at the after party," Lorelai said with an impish grin.

Janlan smiled at her. "I shall drink to it then."

"We should probably go join our class. It's getting to be that time," Tristan announced. The men shook hands, and the women gave quick hugs. The adults left to fight their way back up to the seats as Rory and Tristan turned toward the building where they were to line up for their processional.

He took her hand and pulled along, past their classmates and on further into the main building. She held one hand on top of her cap, despite it being secured with bobby pins by her mother, who had no doubt left lasting marks in her scalp in the process. She had to take quick, small steps to match his clip in her heels, but she held firm to his hand.

"Tristan, where are we going? Don't tell me you didn't clear out your locker. The maintenance people have probably already trashed whatever was left."

"As tempting as it is to press you up against the lockers one last time, that's not what I had in mind."

"We're going to be late," she worried aloud.

"We won't be late," he scoffed, as they stopped at a classroom. He opened the door and flipped on the light switch on the interior wall.

"It's where we took European Lit with Mr. Remmy, sophomore year," she said as she looked around the classroom.

"Where we met."

"We officially met in the hallway outside his room," she argued. "At least it's the first time you got my name wrong."

He held up a hand, and then lowered all but his index finger. "Did you ever think that three years ago, in this classroom on your first day as every instructor you had piled months of backlogged homework on you and Paris and her cronies shot death glares into your skull from every vantage point, that you'd be leaving here as the valedictorian?"

"Actually, back then I wasn't even sure if you were ever going to learn my name, so I'm going to have to go with no."

"I thought it would be nice to remember where we started, before we leave forever."

She smiled wistfully. "There's always Alumni Night."

"Those might be hard to get to, what with the whole being in France thing."

"Yeah," she said breathily, still in a bit of disbelief about the turn their lives were about to take.

"Any second thoughts?"

She was lost in thought for a bit. "I'm nervous. About the program and being so far from home, mostly. I'll be pretty far from you, as well."

"I'll be in Paris as often as I can. And you can come out to the country, whenever you need a break. Our home is literally your home. You know that."

She did know that. She gazed at him in a sort of awe and happiness that came over her, even still, after being together for a couple of years. They'd have rough patches, they'd had fights, but never had she considered herself anything other than lucky for getting to be with him. He was her support, her strength, and she always felt at home wherever he was. If not for their connection, she knew deep down she never would have had the confidence to stray so far from her family for the next chapter of her life. "I know."

"Are you nervous about your speech?" he asked as he brushed a finger over her cheek.

Her brow furrowed, but she turned her head into his touch. "No. Yes. A little, I guess. I hope it doesn't sound too trite."

"We could just skip it and have them show a montage from the yearbook photos while playing that inane Green Day song."

Rory groaned. "Okay, my speech definitely isn't that trite."

He kissed her. "It'll be great. Besides, before you know it, you and Lorelai will be backpacking around Europe."

Her face scrunched in earnest. He'd made his displeasure at being left out of the well-planned excursion very well known. He was ready, willing, and able to join the trip, but Lorelai had refused to budge on the size of the travel party. In fact, she'd made only one concession as far as the trip was concerned. "We're coming to see you at the end of the trip!"

"I know. It's just I have two weeks left here in Hartford, and you'll be gone."

"You'll get two weeks with me at the vineyard before we come home."

"You and your mother. She'll probably try to sleep between us."

"I'm not going to say she wouldn't, but don't give her any ideas."

He pulled her in, their polyester robes swishing and sticking together thanks to static electricity. "Mostly I just wanted a minute alone to tell you that I think you're amazing. You not only got into every school you applied to, you got a scholarship to the Sorbonne and you're our valedictorian. If I were a more insecure person, I would be completely sure I didn't deserve you. Even still, I'm not sure sometimes why you've stuck it out with me this far."

She yanked on his honors cords and pulled him in. "You didn't exactly make it through here by the skin of your teeth, either. Your future is just as bright as mine, not to mention more concrete. You got into your top choice, and you'll be starting to take over some of the operations at the vineyard."

"When I'm not day tripping to Paris to let you cart me around to your favorite spots."

"I'll be lounging along the Seine, drinking café au lait," she said in her best French accent.

"And here I was going to look up in the bell tower at Norte Dame," he teased, before leaning in to give her a soft kiss. His lips melded to hers, and the heat between them started to grow. "Sorry, I think I messed up your lipstick."

"Oh, forget it. No one out there is used to seeing me in this much make-up anyway," she murmured and went back in to continue the moment.

"We should go. They might freak if the valedictorian goes missing. Not to mention they'd probably have Paris give a speech in your place. No one needs to end their high school experience that way."

She chuckled and smoothed out her robes. He finally zipped his up and stood for her approval. "Better?"

She nodded. "Perfect."

-X-

Lorelai sat fanning herself with a program while Emily and Sookie sat discussing appetizers for some upcoming soirée for the DAR while the men discussed all aspects of the architecture of the buildings surrounding them. She was good at tuning both conversations out, having had a lifetime of practice. Her eyes were scanning for anyone familiar, especially Rory—with the exception of Paris. She hadn't expected to land on Max Medina, her one-time fiancé that she'd decided not to marry just days before their planned nuptials some two years prior. She would have immediately diverted her eyes, at least that would have been the smart thing to do, but she found him already staring at her. She supposed she shouldn't be so self-involved—it was possible he was staring at something behind her, but unless the woman's hat with the awful fake flowers on it was enough to cause him to stare like a deer caught in headlights, she figured she was at fault.

"Excuse me. I need to," she coughed out an ending to that excuse and slipped out of the row, making as much of a beeline as was possible through the crowd of proud parents and staff. He was standing at the back, near the table of punch and cookies that were to be enjoyed after the diploma holders were handed out.

"Did you draw cookie guard duty? Or just hoping to prevent someone spiking the punch? Personally, I don't think it would be the worst idea to give that stuff a little kick. Give me five minutes and I'll find you a flask."

He let out a low breath, almost as if he'd been socked in the stomach. "Lorelai."

"You remember," she said, feeling idiotic the moment the words left her. She felt that way with him, sometimes, as even with her propensity for an eclectic vocabulary, his reached further and wider than she could have even hoped to emulate. She'd often wished to see him battle Rory at Scrabble. It was in her reach, at one time in her life. It died with a few other dreams involving Max Medina after she'd broken his heart.

"Congratulations, on Rory being the valedictorian. No one deserved it more."

Lorelai beamed. "Thank you. I couldn't be more proud. Wait, is it more proud or prouder?"

He chuckled. "Well, technically it's prouder, even though both can be considered accepted speech in our current lexicon. It has to do with the fact that it's a regular, one-syllable adjective," he began, but he cut off suddenly. "You didn't come over here for a grammar lesson."

"No, but if I could listen to anyone talk endlessly about grammar, it would be you."

"You flatter me."

"If I wanted to flatter you, I'd tell you how good you look. Of course, that's also just an honest observation. When I was sitting over there and saw you, the first thought I had was, 'Boy, does Max look good.'"

"Lorelai," he said.

She put up a hand. "I'm not fishing for compliments. I know I've looked better. Life's been really hectic lately, with Rory graduating, and my inn burned down, and we're looking at properties to buy, to start our own inn—in fact we're waiting to hear if our bid was accepted on one place in particular, and we're backpacking around Europe next week, because carrying your body weight on foot and sleeping on the floor is the best thing to do when you're recovering from several major stressful life events, isn't it?"

"You're rambling."

"I'm going with my strengths, here," she said, letting out a long breath. "I just wanted to say hi. I haven't seen you in a long time, and so, hi."

"Hi."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to another. "Well, that wasn't so hard."

"Not after all you've been through. Your inn burned?"

"Yes. No one was hurt. It's still standing, but there was so much damage, the owner thought it was easier to sell and move on. It's good, though, because Sookie and I have been putting off starting our own place for so long. It's time. We're moving forward."

"I'm sure it will be a rousing success."

"Thanks. That means a lot. How have you been?"

"Influencing young minds, writing college recommendations. I assume you know I wrote one for Rory."

Lorelai softened. "You did?"

He nodded. "Since she's looking to major in journalism, she had the heads of the English, Journalism, and Languages Departments write them for her."

"You're the head of the department. Very prestigious."

"It's a lot more work with slightly more pay. But I didn't go into teaching for the money."

"No, you're too noble for that kind of philosophy."

"I'm not noble at all."

"You shape the minds of the future leaders of this country. And a few other countries, it would seem."

"I saw that Rory and Tristan are both bound for France. I take it you'll be taking an apartment in Paris for the duration?"

Lorelai laughed, but her heart wasn't in it. "Trust me, I've thought about it. And if I weren't trying to get my inn to become tangible, I might actually do it. But I know it's time to let go. She wouldn't be living at home no matter what. And while I will always be there for her, when I can't be there she can always turn to Tristan's family."

"They've been serious for a while now. You must like him if you haven't killed him yet."

Lorelai grimaced thoughtfully. "I trust him with Rory, so I guess there isn't a bigger compliment, in my book."

"It sounds like life is going well for you."

"It is. And you. You're happy? You look… happy."

"I'm happy. Now," he added, with a subtle hint at something akin to blame.

"Max," she said, aching to reach out to him. "I know what happened between us, it was all my fault. And I know I told you I was sorry, but after I broke things off, I was awash in a sea of regret and uncertainty. The only thing that kept me from calling you and telling you I'd made a mistake was the knowledge that you probably hated me for calling off the wedding."

He cast his eyes downward and took a steadying breath. "I didn't hate you," he said quietly.

"You didn't?" she asked, her voice full of hope.

He turned his brown eyes on her, and she was overcome with the pain and struggle he'd held onto. "I tried. I was mad, confused, heartbroken, but… I couldn't imagine what would be worse, to have married you and been in a marriage you didn't want to be in, or to be alone with a long list of people to call and inform that my fiancé had called off our wedding."

"You deserved better," she assured him. "I know everything I did, how I handled it, it was… it is my biggest regret. I loved you, Max. I owed you more than that."

He put up a hand and cleared his throat. "This isn't necessary. We're adults, we've moved on. It's the nature of time, it heals all wounds. I got over you, and while seeing you brings up certain memories, I choose to remember the sweeter moments we shared and not dwell on the pain."

She closed her eyes. "You were always so good at that."

"At what?"

"Speaking, saying the right thing. The perfect words for every occasion. I miss that."

"I need to use those skills to introduce the class of 2003 in about two minutes. I should go. And you should get to your seat. You don't want to miss Rory."

"No, I don't. It was good to see you, Max."

"Goodbye, Lorelai."

-X-

Lorelai was still attempting to minimize the after effects of tears on her face when they pulled up to the house in the Jeep. Townspeople were already gathering in their yard, having brought food and gifts to celebrate the milestone in Rory's life, as well as to say goodbye to both Gilmore girls before their big Europe trip. Rory looked at her mother with concern. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I feel like I should have prepared you somehow."

"No, no. It's just, your speech was so beautiful, and we got word that we got the inn property, and, well, I might have run into Max before the ceremony."

Rory's eyes widened. "You talked to Mr. Medina? How did that go?"

Lorelai shrugged. "It was good and sad, and kind of surreal."

"Was he upset?"

"No, he was him. He was polite and kind and far more gracious than I deserved. He talked about how proud he was of you. It was sort of liberating, to talk to him. We hadn't spoken since the night I called off the wedding."

Rory let that soak in. "So you've had a busy day and it's barely half over."

"Not as busy as yours. Are you relieved it's finally all done? No more Chilton."

"Relieved and partially terrified. As insane as Chilton was, I got used to it. I knew all the work that was required because they warned me early and often. I have just the slightest idea of what to expect when I start classes in the fall. And I'll be on my own in a foreign city."

"Tristan will be a car ride away."

"Yeah, a long one. And as much as I love him, he's not you."

Lorelai grinned at her daughter. "That is so nice to hear. It's probably codependent and displays some kind of stunted emotional growth, but still. If you ever need me, for anything, just call and I'll be on a plane. I might have to agree to Sunday brunches until my funeral to fund the excursion, but for you, I'd do it."

"I just feel like I have to say goodbye to everyone and everything. I'm not sure how ready I am for that."

"Not everyone. Not me, not yet. We still have a fabulous trip around Europe together. And I'm pretty sure you won't be able to shake Tristan, no matter how hard you try."

Rory smiled. "Yeah."

Lorelai released her seatbelt with a click. "Okay. Let's get our celebration on. I can't promise Kool and the Gang won't make an appearance on the playlist, but I do promise not to drink four cups of Patty's punch and belt out the lyrics while dancing on the porch rail."

"Yes, it would be a shame to make that choice more than once in a lifetime," Rory said as she undid her belt as well and exited the Jeep.

The path to the front door took longer than it ever had. So many people were milling about, eager to reminisce, congratulate, hug, or just plain greet Rory. Lorelai gracefully excused herself through the throng of well-wishers and made it into the house to stash her purse, check out how much ice they had, and generally catch her breath. She stopped short and gasped loudly as she reached the kitchen.

"Luke?"

He turned from the stove, where he was manning the oven and surrounded by trays of party food. "Hey, you're back."

"You're in my kitchen. Did you do all this?"

"I volunteered to warm up the hot appetizers people brought."

"How did you get in here?"

"The key in the turtle."

"That's for emergencies," she argued in an exhaustive fashion.

"Have you been outside? If I hadn't taken charge, those people would have broken down the door in a stampede to all come in and micromanage. This way I'm the only one in here. If you want me to go, I will. You know how to use your oven, right? I ask, because I pulled three pairs of shoes out of there before I put in the spring rolls."

Her attention shifted. "There are spring rolls?"

"Al brought them. On the table."

She plucked one up and blew on it to cool it slightly before biting in with a crunch. "Thanks, Luke. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, it's just… it's been quite the day."

"Rory graduating. Hardly seems possible that she's eighteen and off to college," he said.

"Yeah. That and I ran into Max, for the first time since we didn't get married. Oh, and Sookie and I bought the Dragonfly Inn. We found out during the ceremony."

Luke's expression shifted rapidly as he ingested all she said. "I'm going to make some coffee."

She smiled at him with gratitude and immense relief. "That would be amazing. Make a lot, though, once Rory and Tristan get here, they'll need it."

"How was Rory's speech?"

"Oh, Luke, it was… unreal, how good it was. I have a hard time believing I had a hand in making her this upstanding, smart, beautiful person. The crowd laughed, cried, and gave her a standing ovation."

"You couldn't make it through?" Luke asked knowingly.

"I didn't even make it to her second sentence. Luckily Sookie stuffed her purse with tissues. I probably still have raccoon eyes. I was going to go upstairs and freshen up."

"You look good. I mean, you can go up and fix your make-up, but you don't need it," Luke advised.

"It's not about what I think I need. Emily Gilmore will be here shortly, and she's never shy to point out the multitude of ways I might be embarrassing her."

"Is Rory's dad coming, as well?" Luke asked, keeping his feelings about Emily's rules of conduct to himself.

"Chris? No. He was out of town. They made plans to spend time together after we get back from Europe. I think Rory's good with it. I hope. We haven't had a lot of time, lately, to talk. Life has been frantic."

"Well, you'll have six weeks of walking around Europe together. You'll get plenty of time to talk then. Probably mostly about how heavy your packs are, but still."

"Right, right. I should check to see if we have ice, then splash some water on my face."

Luke shook his head. "I have ice in extra coolers on the back porch. Go take a breather. When you get down, coffee will be ready. If anyone else other than Rory or Tristan comes in, I'll beat them off with my spatula."

She stepped forward and gave him a hug. When she pulled away, she kissed his cheek. The moment afterward was silent, with him staring at her in some kind of wonderful shock and her smiling up at him. "What was that for?"

"For being you. I'll be quick," she promised, and then she disappeared up to her room, for once very comfortable to have a man in her house.

-X-

Rory grabbed Tristan's hand that wasn't holding a cup of punch and eased him away from the small crowd he was chatting with, back toward the side yard. "I've come to rescue you," she said with a Cheshire grin she'd inherited from her mother.

He willingly followed her as they wound around to her backyard, aglow in twinkly lights hung from any available structure. Their grandparents had come, celebrated, and departed, leaving mostly townspeople outside the Gilmore home, finishing off food, drinking gaily, and telling stories about Rory's school years, both at Stars Hollow and Chilton. "I was rather enjoying hearing stories about your public school days. Babette promised to send me a picture of you dressed up like chocolate pudding from the food pyramid play your first-grade class put on."

"Oh, boy," she groaned, burying her hair in his shoulder.

He chuckled and bent his head to nudge her head with his nose. He couldn't help but take a moment to breathe her in. He'd been having a good time, but he never felt they got enough time alone together. He was already dreading her departure for London, and she wasn't even gone yet. "I mean, that's the kind of story that needs photo documentation. How does one dress up like pudding?"

Rory pulled back and sighed. "Lots of brown satin and a mother who is not only inventive but a freakishly good seamstress."

He kissed her then, in the summer air, with fireflies just starting to light up in the dwindling June twilight around them. "I love hearing stories about you."

"More than you like seeing me?" she queried.

"Never," he promised, kissing her again. Their graduation robes were long gone, and he'd lost his suit jacket as well. She stood curled up into him, despite the warmth of the air, and drank in every last intoxicating second of his kiss. When they pulled apart, he seemed preoccupied.

"Are you okay? Your grandfather seemed to be doing well," she said, voicing one of his usual concerns. While his grandfather wasn't in the best of health, he'd been doing much better since all the worst of the issues had been worked out with Tristan's father and living in France again was clearly good for the older man. Janlan had been back and forth a few times over the past two years, making sure his grandson was doing well, in need of nothing, and generally being a stable adult figure in his life. Lorelai had become another such figure in Tristan's life, though in a lesser way. She never tried to parent him, but she understood him. She always welcomed him into their home as if he belonged there—so long as he didn't overly try to stay the night in Rory's bed. Lorelai didn't pretend nothing was happening, but she was never going to encourage the practice of them cohabitating until both were of a certain age.

"He's fine. Everything's fine. It's just, I have something for you."

Her face fell. "Tristan, we agreed! No graduation gifts. I need to save my money for all the traveling come fall, and I've got everything I want."

He swallowed hard and nodded slowly. "No, I know. It's not a graduation gift, exactly. I mean, we just graduated, and it's a gift, but… you're leaving in two days and I won't see you for weeks, and I didn't want to wait."

"You have a time-sensitive gift for me?"

"Not time sensitive, exactly. We've been together for a while now. I know it's not always easy, and it won't be going forward either. We'll see each other less for longer periods, and then we'll have more freedom to spend a lot more time together when we can. I know we'll make the most of it, and I know we'll make it work."

She squeezed his arm in a furtive grip using both her hands. "We will. I meant what I said in my speech. I always had what I thought were big dreams. They were bigger than my circumstances, certainly. But after I got to Chilton and got to know you, I realized I'd been playing it safe. I wasn't pushing myself as much as I could. When I got to Chilton, I only had one thought, and that was going to Harvard. It was all I wanted. I don't even remember deciding that was what I wanted, and worse, I never questioned it. Being with you made me realize that the things I was going to regret was the unexplored life. Things I didn't try because I thought they weren't part of the path I was supposed to follow."

"Like going out with me?"

"And looking at other schools. Imagining a different kind of life, for sure, one that included school, but didn't revolve solely around school. I'll be learning so much more in Paris than just how to be a journalist. And I've possibly never been more scared and excited at the same time. It's like when I started at Chilton, times a million. That was just the first tiny step."

"As much as I'd like to take credit for any of that, I know it's all you. You're amazing, and you're probably the reason I didn't end up in military school or jail or a state party school," he said quickly, with a slight lift at the corner of his mouth. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

She stood stock-still, watching him as if the world around her were suddenly in slow motion. "Tristan, what are you doing?"

His eyes met hers, and she saw how unnaturally calm he was. "Relax."

"I, o-kay," she agreed, clasping her hands to the point of wringing them.

"Two years ago, when my grandparents were packing up for the move back to France, my grandmother gave me this. My grandfather gave it to her when they were courting, and he'd gotten it passed down from his mother, and it was her mother's before that."

She couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Opening her mouth only let air pass in, so she nodded for him to continue.

"It's not… I'm not asking you for anything. I don't need you to promise me anything. We're too young, and until we're both done with school, our lives will be about preparing for the future. Preparing for a time when I can offer you whatever you need, and I want to be the person to give all of that to you. This is just a reminder. Something for you to have, in the meantime, and to help you remember me while we're apart."

"You think I might forget you?" she asked finally in a soft whisper, her mouth slightly dry.

"I don't want to take a chance on that," he answered solemnly as he opened the little box. Inside was obviously a custom piece of jewelry, a rather large amethyst in a setting of gold grape vines, twisting around to intricately hold the stone in the setting.

She drew in a breath, now considerably less freaked out and rather just in awe. "It's beautiful."

"Will you wear it?"

Her eyes flickered up from the ring to his anxious face. "Just so we're clear, I don't need jewelry to remember you. But I would be honored to wear the ring. I'll take good care of it."

"It's not a loan."

She nodded and met his eyes head on. "I'll wear it and I'll think of you."

He slid his arms around her after he slipped in on her finger, and for a few moments he held her. It was only then that she realized his heart was hammering in his chest against her ear. "If your mom freaks out," he began.

"It's not a diamond. She'll be fine," Rory assured him.

"It's not a diamond, but it's not nothing," he said pointedly, in case he had made too light of the offering before.

She put her hand, now decorated with the ring, over his chest. "I know. I'll talk to her, so she understands what it means to both of us. But she will be fine. She's gotten used to the idea, you know."

"Of us going to France?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. Well, that too. I mean she's used to the idea of us, as something that's lasting. Who knows what's given her that impression," she teased him.

He tipped her chin up with his fingers. "Do you want it to be a diamond?"

His words, along with the look on his face, evoked a rush of adrenaline throughout her whole body, to the point that her head grew light. "I, um, you said you weren't… that this wasn't," she stammered.

He kissed her forehead softly. "It's not. But only because I didn't think we were both ready. The minute I think we are, it will be. Is that okay?"

She smiled up at him in renewed relief. "Yeah. Yes. It's more than okay."

"Then I guess we're both ready to head to Europe. Too bad it's not together," he said, getting in one last declaration of discontent.

She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Don't worry. We'll end up together, in the end."

"Read that in a fairy tale, did you?"

"That's happily ever after," she corrected.

He kissed her again. "If I end up with you, that's my happily ever after."