Okay, here's the next chapter, hope you like it

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When Rory was three she did many unforgivable things. I even remember praying a few times on her behalf, begging God to please forgive her of her sins. I suppose I was a bit of a melodramatic mother, I mean every kid at sometime in their life must do something as drastic as sticking a pea up their nose or mistaking Lego for the actual candy. But my fear all came down to small worries that tied knots in my stomach and made we wonder if I'd be at my kid's funeral in a week. I mean, take it into perspective. If your child was playing Lego peacefully one sunny afternoon, taking pride in her 10 block creation and then seconds later eating it, what would you do? Take her to a psychiatrist? No, because although it's done in movies in real life three year olds are not smart enough to relate an ink blot collage to an omen of death. Or, maybe, tape her mouth shut to prevent any further architectural meals? If you ask me that's classified as child abuse. So I did what any sane mother would do, I hired a nanny.

Cynthia came easy. She was a high school drop out (not that I'm proud to admit it) who had an insane devotion to anything that couldn't talk properly. I know you're probably thinking, how the hell did I have enough money to pay for a nanny? Well miracles happen, my friend. It turned out that Cynthia worked at a bar at night (not stripping, made sure of that) and was just looking for something to keep her busy and maybe earn her a bit of money during the day. Rory was the perfect "something".

"Sinchia!" Rory screamed through her newly acquired teeth.

"I think she wants you to stay," I informed the departing Nanny as I tried desperately to hold squirming Rory back from her clear cut fate of becoming a road side pancake.

Cynthia smiled. "No Rory honey, I have to go to work now, you go play with your choochoos," she told the toddler.

Just to fill you in "Choochoo" is the equivalent of little kid slang for train.

"No!!! Sinchia!! Docter barbeee!!" Rory exclaimed between strangled cries.

Cynthia then proceeded to tell me that Rory and she had been in the process of healing Ken with Barbie's magic "heart beater," when I arrived, and that Rory wanted to finish the game.

"Oh, Rory honey, why don't you come with mommy and watch Sesame Street?" I asked pulling Rory by her hand into the house.

Rory looked up at me with big puppy eyes "Sinchia was gonna make popcorn for me and we were gonna pay docter barbee," she whined.

And then I realized what was going on. Cynthia had become Rory's significant other and I was just a stand in mother. An expression of seriousness washed over my face.

"Cynthia, I think you should go," I said.

She looked a little upset at first, and then the reason seemed to click.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Rory!"

"Bye Sinchia." Rory pouted.

As I shut the door the baby began to cry, an endless waterfall pouring down her cheeks.

"No, no. Rory don't cry!" I led her over to the couch and placed her carefully into my lap. She objected a bit but then settled down.

"Now mommy is going to tell you something, and you have to listen, okay?" I informed her as I brushed a strand of her long brown her out of her eyes. Rory shook her head.

"Cynthia isn't your mommy Rory, I am. I'm the mommy who's going to take you to your first day of school and I'm the mommy who you're going to tell how yucky boys are too. But I get sad when you treat me like you don't like me. And I get sad when you act like you can't live without Cynthia. I just want you to remember that I'm your mommy, not Cynthia, ok?" I know, it sounded a bit like I was lecturing a three year old who would much rather be ripping hair out of Barbie's, but I think she really took it to heart.

"I'm sorri mommi," Rory whispered.

'That's okay, now lets go party" I exclaimed as I picked her up and flew her around the room in airplane mode. And as I did I smiled to myself because I knew my kid adored me.

I remember one winter's day that year. It was 10 degrees below zero out and snow covered the town's ground like frosty cake icing. Families merrily decorated their homes for the long-awaited holiday season and, I went out on a Christmas tree hunt.

The storm didn't begin until I was half way to Good ridge farm. The wind howled and snowflakes the size of golf balls pelted the windshield. I thought about turning around but then I remembered Rory's gleeful expression when I told her what a beautiful tree we would have.

Is it really worth risking your lifealthough, for a tree that's already dead? No. Not in my books anyways. So despite Rory's cute face I made the wise decision to turn around. Unfortunately, the procedure was a lot more difficult then I thought it would be. As I made my turn, one of the wheels on my car caught a piece of ice and sent the vehicle swerving into a ditch.

Scary. You may think that horror movies like "The Ring" are Cr-eeepy but losing control of your car beats all Grammy winning freaky moments. I tried quite a few times to back myself out of the ditch but the snow was so deep that my dumb ass car wouldn't move a millimeter. So guess what I did?

"Hi, Luke?" I half yelled into my cell phone.

"Lorelai, is everything okay?" Came his muffled reply.

"No," I glanced around. Snow had now completely covered the car making me feel like I was trapped inside a Popsicle." I'm kinda stuck,"

"What. Where?" Luke asked, worry framing his voice.

"I-I donno. Somewhere by Good ridge tree farm. I'm on a side road, there aren't really any other cars around," I

"Are you inside your car?"

"Yup,"

"Is the engine running?" He sounded really concerned.

"Yeah,"

"Okay, stay there. I'll find you," he said in a hurry, and hung up.

I betcha he closed the diner right then and there to become my knight in shining armor. Luke would die for the people the people he loved, and that moment I thanked the lord that I was one of them.

Approximately half an hour later Luke's van pulled up behind me.

"Are you alright?" he wondered as he tugged at the front door.

"Just peachy," I chimed. "Actually I've managed to keep myself amused by performing dirty finger puppet shows in the rear-view mirror".

Luke chuckled. "And I thought this was an emergency," he exclaimed.

"Oh it was. You see if you hadn't come my fingers would have fallen off from frost bite and then I wouldn't be able to entertain myself,"

"Well thank you for making the half an hour journey sound completely worthwhile," Luke said sarcastically.

"You're welcome!"

"We're going to have to shovel you out tomorrow. But for now I'll just drive you home The snows been coming down for a while so you're a few feet in. It would take too long-"

I touched his arm lightly to stop him from rambling.

"Thanks for coming Luke. I really appreciate it". I said sincerely.

Luke scratched his woolen cap, his very cute woolen cap, and smiled modestly.

"No problem".

I had another memorable encounter with Luke that year, not that the events revolving around the man mark my social calendar. You see, Luke and I have a strange relationship. To someone passing by we'd appear as friends, bickering about the weather, the last episode of "the Price is Right" or contemplating what has been done with the rest of Michael Jackson's face. But the moments that define our relationship are the ones that no one really knows about, because we keep them close to our hearts, buried beneath lies and misconceptions. This particular moment happened in a time of vulnerability. It was summer and I had been having a terrible day. At work I had broken a grand total of six dishes and been yelled at multiple times by annoyed kitchen staff. And when I got home Cynthia had told me that she might have to quit. Directly after that Satan's wife called and we got into another one of our heart-wrenching arguments. This time she accused me of purposely not coming to my father's birthday celebration because I was a conniving selfish little brat who didn't care at all about her parents. So I was driven to the boos. I drowned my sorrows away right in front of Rory and then threw up all over her favorite teddy bear (I bet your not liking me a lot right now). I also forgot that I had invited Luke over to help me hang some new curtains.

I jumped when the doorbell rang and then hurried to hide my bottle of Vodka under an upturned couch pillow.

"I'll get it Rory!' I yelled. Which is kind of funny because Rory couldn't even reach the handle at the time.

I opened the door to a fresh looking Luke whose expression changed from anticipation to confusion in a matter of seconds.

"Hiya Luke,"

Little did I know that my face was lined with mascara marks because I'd been crying.

"Your drunk," he stated, surprised.

"Nice to see you too," I exclaimed, practically falling onto the couch. I observed as Luke's face turned fire red and I knew why. Rory was peeking her innocent little head out of her pile of toys with expression that read "help me!" written all over her face.

"What the hell kind of mother are you?" Luke yelled, picking up the frightened little girl in his arms.

I felt my face become warm, and my throat began to swell. "Don't you yell at me too," I cried.

"Then you've got some explaining to do," Luke roared. He placed Rory back amongst her toys and gave her a hug "You play," he mumbled. "Mommy's going to be okay".

I felt my heart swell up at that moment. Even though I was drunk I still felt emotion when I saw how fatherly Luke Danes had just acted towards my daughter. His kind actions made me feel extremely ashamed because the most I had said to Rory all night was 'go play". I couldn't control myself then as an endless supply of tears flowed freely from my eyes.

"Jesus, Lorelai what the hell is the matter with you?" Luke asked, sitting down on the couch beside me.

"Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you treat her like that? Like her father for god's sake. I-I have a daughter who doesn't even know me, Luke and a mother who thinks I'm a selfish little brat. And the funny thing is-"I stopped for a minute and laughed. "I don't even know myself anymore".

Luke glanced at me sympathetically. "Did something happen earlier?" he asked.

"Oh more then something happened earlier, EVERYTHING happened earlier. I might be fired from work because I keep dropping things, and the nanny's probably gonna quit. Then what the hell will I do? There's no one to look after Rory while I work. My mother also called and yelled at me, and I-I didn't even do anything," I took in a deep breath. "I didn't do anything," I repeated more quietly.

Luke opened his arms and I fell into them, a tear drenched puddle.

"Shhh". "Everything's going to be okay," he comforted.

"How do you know that?" I asked into his sweater, lulled by the sound of him breathinf and the smell of his cologne.

"Because you have people in your life who love you and care about you," I know totally out of character, but what would you say if you were him? As I leaned into Luke I heard the scattering of little feet on the hardwood floor. Rory had been listening the whole time.

"I love you mommy, and Luke loves you too," Rory told me, in her most adult voice. I sat up slowly and took Rory into my arms.

I knew then that if a stranger passed by at that moment they wouldn't see two friends and a child ...they would see a family.

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The end, less Luke next chapter, promise.