Things between Logan and Rory had been tense for a month –ever since he admitted that the Stamford Eagle was going under. Rory did her best to help, but she was rustier than she wanted to admit when it came to the nuts and bolts of putting out a paper. Her short stint at the Stars Hollow Gazette mostly involved keeping Charlie awake, letting Esther do whatever she wanted and reporting on silly aspects of Stars Hollow "news" –which was to say, pretty much everything. The Stamford Eagle was more complicated, and she hadn't been anywhere near a serious newsroom since graduating from Yale.

Logan was stressed; he knew Rory was upset with him for not being honest with her about the state of the paper and she had every right to be. But he didn't regret his choice not to tell her, he'd chosen to focus on the thing that was going right –which was, finally, his family. But the longer the situation persisted, the clearer it became that there was no turning it around.

By the end of March 2019 – about six weeks after Logan had come home that day with his head in his hands- the Stamford Eagle closed its doors. Logan stared at his phone for a few weeks; he spent entire days in the tiny den of the apartment he shared with Rory writing emails and making calls to anyone he could think of, trying to line something else up. One day Rory caught him just staring at his phone on his desk. He was cursing at it under his breath. "Come on, you bastard, you know you want to," she heard him whisper.

"Logan, who are you talking to?" Rory asked quietly one day, standing in the doorway of the den.

"No one," he muttered. "It's fine."

"Logan," she sighed, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "you spent six months saving this paper from the brink. You did –you saved it. Now it's gone under. It's not fine. You're not fine."

"No," he admitted. "I'm not. I'm scared shitless. I have to find something else. Now. We can't live on the meagre earnings you make from Stars Hollow and Woodbury."

"No, we can't. But we'll be okay for a while."

"Rory…"

"Logan. You still haven't answered my question."

"What?"

"Who were you muttering to? Who's the bastard?"

"My dad," Logan sighed. "He's probably laughing and cursing my name right about now, making merry sport with his business buddies about how if I'd just listened to him, I wouldn't be in this mess. He's enjoying this, Ace. And he hasn't called to rub it in yet. The longer it takes him to start rubbing my face in it, the more nervous I get."

"Your dad doesn't even know where you live. He doesn't have your phone number."

"You think he can't snap his fingers and get it? Don't be dumb, Rory. He can find us any time he wants."

Rory blinked hard and stood up straight, releasing her hold on Logan's shoulders.

"Ace –I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm just going to check on Hannah. I put her down for her nap a while ago," she said, pecking his cheek quickly. "We'll figure this out, Logan," Rory promised, pausing at the door and looking at him with sad eyes.


"How ya doin', little brother?" Honour asked gently when she was on the phone with Logan.

"How do you think I'm doing?" Logan asked sarcastically.

"I realize how easily you can forget this, but I'd be the one Huntzberger who doesn't deserve that tone, thank you very much."

"Sorry."

"Are you snapping at Rory too?"

"A little. I may have told her that Mitchum can track us down any time he wants. He doesn't need to know where we are –he can find out."

"Logan," Honour sighed. "It doesn't matter that that's true –why the hell would you say something like that? To Rory? After everything you guys have –?"

"I know. I'm an idiot. Can we change the subject please? How are you? You called me, remember. What's up?"

"Why does something have to be up? I know what you're going through –can't a big sister just be worried about her little brother and call him to see how he's doing?"

"You can… but you rarely do. I'm not doubting you care; I'm doubting that's the only reason you called."

Honour's silence confirmed Logan's suspicions.

"What is it, Honour?"

"I would just like to make sure you know I had no idea she was going to do this, and I know the timing is suspicious but –"

"She? Who's 'she'? What are you talking about?"

"Mom…"

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. But… she –"

"She what?"

"She sent a gift. A belated Christmas present."

"Okay," Logan said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "now I'm confused. It's almost April. And I haven't spoken to her in over a year. All that shit was last Christmas. How many prescriptions is she on?"

"I know. Logan, it's not for me…"

"Well then who the hell is it for?"

"It's –it's for… it's for Hannah," Honour said quietly.

Logan felt his heart race. His blood was hot. "Excuse me? How does she even –?"

"Logan, I swear, I have no clue."

"Honour…"

"She was here," Honour admitted nervously. "Right after you and Rory left in January. I didn't tell you because it doesn't matter, you know I'd never –"

"And yet somehow her interest is sparked and she's sending belated Christmas presents. Rhys and Georgie?"

"No! We made a game out of it. They love keeping secrets from her, you know that. They kept score every night."

"Entrusting a rather important secret to two children who love lying to their grandmother –don't you think you should've come up with a better way of justifying this to them… ?"

"Logan, I swear, they didn't say anything…"

"Well then how the fuck –?"

"I don't know! I –" Honour gasped quietly. "Oh God," she whispered. As it slowly dawned on her, she felt as though she might faint. "The last night she was here, we –we all went out for dinner. After I was done wrestling Rhys into the car I realized I didn't have my phone. I went back to the house and Mom was standing there, right next to the table where it was. She just pointed at it when I asked her. What if she picked it up when I was at the car with Rhys, to bring it to me?"

"So what if she did? Your detail-oriented memory is even more confusing to me now than it has been every other time you remember details that don't matter."

"This does matter!" Honour yelled.

"Okay," Logan sighed. "Why?"

"If she picked it up… Logan," Honour said slowly, "the wallpaper on my phone lock screen is a picture Josh took, of you, me, Hannah and Rory in the pool while you guys were visiting."

Logan bit his lip and slammed his fist against his leg.

"I'm so sorry! But I don't think Dad knows."

"Honour, now is not the time to try and fix the bullet hole with a Band-Aid."

"Logan, I'm serious. I don't think Dad knows."

"How can you possibly suspect that she managed to do anything without him knowing, or worse, him pulling her strings to do it for him? Don't be stupid."

"I read the card."

"There's a card? Christ…"

"'Dear Honour,' –"

"Honour, I don't give a fuck what she has to –"

"'Dear Honour,'" Honour started reading louder, to drown out her brother's protesting. "'Dear Honour: I know I am probably the last person your brother wishes to hear from, save perhaps, his father. I must also ask your forgiveness –you were not expecting this and probably do not appreciate being put in the middle, but I must try. I had such a lovely time with you and Josh and the children earlier this year… I couldn't help but think of the child I haven't spoken to, and the grandchild I know nothing about. Logan would probably never believe me if I told him that I wish things had gone differently that day – that I wish I'd had enough wits about me to say something… anything. But it's the truth. After spending time with you and the kids… ever since then there's been a sadness I cannot shake. Logan doesn't need to give me a second chance, goodness knows I probably don't deserve one. Since returning to London I've realized, with a heavy heart, I don't even know exactly where Logan is. Your father is the one with the connections that could find him, not me. The only person I know who knows exactly where he is… is you. I wonder if you might be willing to send this dollhouse to Logan –where ever he is- for Hannah. I think she might like it. I gave Georgie the same one when she was around the same age and she loved it, remember? Anyway, Logan might not even want to take it, when he finds out it's from me. And I suppose that is his prerogative. But I'm a lonely woman, who regrets what she's done. I'm half a world away. All I can do is try. If he agrees to take it, tell him I love him and Merry belated Christmas… I'm sorry it's so late. You know how they say 'better late than never'? Even if he never tells Hannah where it came from… if he gives it to her and she has fun playing with it, that's all that matters, even if I never know. Thank you for a lovely visit, dear. I hope to see you again before too long. Love, your mother.'"

Logan was more stunned than he'd ever want to admit. He swallowed it and sucked in a sharp breath. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that Honour, huh?"

"I don't know," Honour admitted. "I just thought –"

"You just thought you'd call up your baby brother, whose business he's been busting his ass to save, just went under, to comfort him and also –surprise! Our up-and-down-like-a-yoyo mother whose had nothing to do with you for over a year ever since our dad called the mother of your child a whore… well, she's suddenly sorry! Here's a beautiful, expensive, dollhouse to tell you how sorry she is."

"Logan…"

"You want me to take it, don't you? You want me to forgive her."

"I don't want you to do anything. I don't care if you forgive her. Doesn't sound like she expects you to either."

"Well then why did you fucking tell me?" Logan screamed.

"She sent a goddamn dollhouse to my house, Logan. A dollhouse. A big one. If you don't want it that's fine, I'll find somewhere to sell it. It's been here for weeks by the way. I didn't tell you because I do know what you're going through, but I thought it might cheer you up."

"Cheer me up? Now you're the one who's on something, Honour. How the fuck do you figure that hearing from our mother via a dollhouse and a sad note would cheer me up?"

"Because she seems to be sorry. She doesn't appear to have involved Dad at all; and even if you don't take it, it's gotta feel good, knowing you coaxed some genuine remorse out of the woman."

"You shouldn't be leaving your phone lying around. And change your stupid wallpaper photo," Logan said coldly.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

"You should be."

"Of course I should be," Honour said pointedly.

Logan sighed. He stayed silent for a long time. "I'm a dick," he said finally.

"A little, yeah," his sister agreed, swallowing a lump in her throat. "Is there anything I can do to help… with the work thing, I mean?"

"No. I… remember the night of the cookout? The day before Rory and I left? I offered to run to the store for Josh and I was late coming back?"

Honour had totally forgotten until Logan started talking about it just now. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. Forget it. I gotta go."

"Logan, I –"

"I'm sorry I was an ass."

"It's okay. I'm used to it."

"Don't get rid of the dollhouse… not yet."

"Really?"

"I haven't decided what I want to do about it –if anything- but until I decide… just, don't get rid of it yet."

"Okay. Bye Logan."

"Bye," Logan sighed and hung up the phone, unable to stop himself from feeling like he'd live to regret the entire conversation he'd just had with his sister.


Rory parked her car nervously. Last time she'd been here, it didn't turn out so well. But she was alone this time. And unlike last time, she wasn't here for Jess. She waited until she saw someone unlock the door and she snuck in behind them. Luckily, she still had the apartment number written down. A few minutes later, she was very timidly knocking on a door, willing herself not to turn around and run back to her car.

"Come in!" a voice from inside yelled pleasantly.

"It's Rory."

There was a beat of silence. "You can still come in," the voice said slowly.

Rory pushed the door handle down and stepped inside. "Hi."

"We gotta stop meeting like this," Ella said sarcastically. "I'm surprised you still know where I live."

"I wrote it down… kept the paper."

"How responsible."

"Do you always just leave your door unlocked like that?"

"I thought you were my dad."

Rory smiled. "Sorry."

"So –to what do I owe this nice surprise?"

"Oh, sorry," Rory laughed nervously. "I –I need your help."

"With what?"

"You're a writer."

"So are you," Ella answered questioningly.

"No, but you –you've made your own way as a writer. You contribute to magazines and stuff, but you have your own website too. A blog. That you make money from. Enough money to live."

"Have you been cyber-stalking me, Nancy Drew?"

"No! Of course not. I just, well –I've read some of your stuff. It's really good."

"Thanks," Ella said slowly. "Still needing backstory on what you're doing here though."

"Logan lost his job recently," Rory started to explain.

"That sucks," Ella offered.

"Yeah. Thing is, I'm working off and on at two small town papers. I just got back to it after… everything. And we were doing fine. But now Logan doesn't have a job; hasn't had for a few weeks. And the jobs I have… they're –they're not enough. Until Logan can find… I need to make more money."

"I worked my ass off for my business –no pun intended. I'm not looking for partners."

"No! That's not what I meant."

"Well then, what did you mean?"

"I want to know how to do what you did… start a website, a blog, and make money from it."

Ella sighed. "If you're looking for quick cash, this isn't the way. It takes a long time. Years."

"I know," Rory said, trying not to sound too disappointed –she did in fact know that. "But I have to do something. Will you help me?"

"I'm still not clear on how you want me to help you."

"Well, you always hear about people who make livings with blogs and YouTube channels and whatever. But you're the first person I've actually known who's done it."

"Look, Rory –"

"Ella, please."

"Fine," Ella rolled her eyes. "I just redid my website. New layout, fresh content, new sponsors. Read it. All of it. Read about the sponsors, click on the link of the webmaster who did it for me. If I'm going to help you, I'll be damned if you don't have a proper understanding of how complicated it is."

"Okay."

"You also need to figure out what you're selling."

"Excuse me?" Rory asked.

Ella grabbed one of her business cards and gave it to her. "To have an online presence that people will literally buy into, you need an angle. Who are you? Why should people give a shit about who you are and what you have to say over the twenty other blogs Google will spit out at them when they type in a search term? Why does what you have to say matter? What's unique about it? Who are you? Who do you want to be?"

"Oh… right."

"If you were smart, you'd ride off the coattails of that book of yours. That's largely how the public knows you. Do yourself a favour: don't reinvent the wheel."

Rory nodded. She was already overwhelmed.

"Call me next week; we can talk about what you think you might have to say."

"What I'm selling…"

"Exactly."

"Right. Okay."

"Read my website top to bottom. I want you to understand everything this genius idea of yours entails."

Rory frowned.

"That wasn't an insult, that was Brooklyn sarcasm."

"Oh! Of course."

"I don't keep things secret from Jess either. Last time you showed up here was… very different. I'm not helping you and not telling him about it. And if you guys ever have a thing that you try and stick me in the middle of, I'm done with you. Understand? I like you, but that's a line you don't cross. Also, Logan's a good guy, but I can live without a blow-by-blow of all your private drama. I have my own life. I don't need yours."

"Understood. Don't tell Jess I barged in here like this, please."

"Okay then," Ella smiled. "And if you don't want me telling Jess you knocked before barging in here, you better talk to him before I do and tell him you used the phone like a civilized person."

"Thank you so much," Rory said genuinely.

"Don't thank me yet," Ella laughed.

"You know what I mean."

"I do. But, you should leave now, unless you want to be subjected to a friendly but unrelenting interrogation from my dad and my boyfriend."

"Right. Gone," Rory turned to leave.

"Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"My phone number's on that card. Use it," Ella said firmly.


"Hey," Rory said nervously.

"Hey. Why do you sound so –?"

"So, Ella's going to help me start a blogging website I can make money from."

"I –pardon?"

"Well, I don't actually know if I'll get to have a website, much less if it'll make money, but she's going to help me try."

"Okay. Did you call her?"

"Of course I called her," Rory laughed nervously. "How do you think I know she's going to help me? Logan lost his job; the paper went under –"

"I'm sorry."

"And what I'm doing isn't enough to keep us afloat. So, I need something that can keep me home with Hannah and I thought, 'I could blog! I even know someone who does that!' I talked to her yesterday and she said she would try and help. Is that gonna be weird?"

"For who?"

"You."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay, good. That's a relief."

"Why do you sound so… are you okay?"

"I was just really nervous asking Ella for help. She's your friend. And then to have her agree and then, well –then I was nervous to tell you."

"Well, feel free to resume normal breathing. It's fine."

"Are you really sure?"

"You keep asking me that and I'll say no and then you're fucked. It's fine." Jess was in the bookstore and he saw Kathleen walk in.

"So, how are you?" Rory asked, finally letting herself relax.

"I'm good. But I –I gotta go actually. Give Hannah a kiss for me. I'll call you tomorrow, we'll set something up for next week, okay?"

"Sounds good."

"Bye Rory." Jess disconnected the call and walked up to Kathleen, standing silently behind her. "Fancy meeting you here," he said softly.

Kathleen gasped and spun around, her hair brushing against his face. It smelled like Lily of the valley. When she saw him, she narrowed her eyes, "Were you waiting for me?"

"If I said no, would you believe me?"

"No."

"Too bad, it's the truth. You know, we see each other often enough in here, by accident, we should just hang out like normal people."

"And how do 'normal people' do it?"

"On purpose."

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

Jess smirked. "We're not in high school. If I was asking you out on a date, I'd be a man about it and make my intentions clear."

"You sure know how to disappoint a girl, Jess," Kathleen teased, her green eyes sparkling like peridots.

"Nonsense. We're still basically strangers. All we've done is run into each other a handful of times at a bookstore. How dare I be so presumptuous? I'm simply suggesting that rather than rely on happy accidents to see each other, we try doing it on purpose. No pressure, no expectations. Given how happy the happy accidents of running into each other are, I'm willing to bet that spending time together on purpose will be even better. If it is, believe me –I will ask you out on a date."

"What if hanging out on purpose goes well and I ask you out first?"

"I've always admired women who know what they want. I wouldn't be able to refuse."

Kathleen laughed softly. "Have you always been like this?"

"Like what?" Jess asked, smirking still.

"Charming. Adorable. Sweet."

"I've always been charming –when I want to be. Though adorable and sweet aren't usually the words people choose to describe me. That part's new."

"Lucky me. Tell me then, what words would people choose to describe you and why am I seeing something they don't?"

"Those are very valid questions. Ones I'd be very happy to answer…" Jess paused. "Over lunch."

"Lunch?"

"Lunch. Tomorrow. See that café across the street?" Jess asked, pointing.

Kathleen followed his finger and his gaze. "Yes," she chuckled. "One o'clock?"

"Perfect."

"See you tomorrow then, Jess."

"Where are you going? You just got here! You didn't even look at any books!"

"Just because you didn't come here just to look for me doesn't mean I didn't come in here looking for you," she winked, walking out the door backwards to hold his eyes.

When Kathleen was gone, Jess set a reminder in his phone to call Rory at eleven. That way, even if she was feeling chatty, he wouldn't be late for lunch.