She went slowly up the stairs then.

She was tired. And she was sick and tired of being tired. She sighed then and thought about Luke. What was she doing anyway? Encouraging him, that's what. Trying to draw him back slowly and gently the way one would a frightened animal. She was using patience and understanding and forgiveness, everything but a big Bugs Bunny carrot with a trailing green tail. Yes, she wanted him back all right. She loved him.

Not that he'd left really, but she knew what pain did to Luke, and what he did to himself when he was in pain—and it all amounted to a kind of isolation. Usually she could metaphorically knock him upside the head, jiggle him out of it, or talk him down and into a new way of thinking. But this time it was different. Lorelai knew this as surely as she knew that the Bangles should have just gotten over it all and worked it out.

But this time it was about her.

And though it had been about her before, this was nevertheless different. Luke was in a deep hole now, and it had been dug long ago in a past where she did not exist. And she was too tired to give him a hand up right now anyway, she thought as she flopped on her bed. She wasn't even sure that she should, let alone could. Normally she had absolutely no compunction about kicking Luke in the ass when he needed it, when he got too complacent riding his flannel groove. But this was about her now, and about her being sick, and although she knew she was still the same person (with this new added not-so-good feature,) others, as was just evidenced downstairs, were really only seeing that new feature right now. Like a bad haircut. And maybe dealing with this new bad haircut, having to look at it daily, was just not something she should ask Luke to take on.

Because ultimately, he might. And she really didn't know if she wanted that for him...

She fell asleep then, and in her dream she was in the damn hedge maze. Only now it was overgrown and tall and didn't smell good at all. And there were all these different ways one could go. These different individual ways. And she knew that eventually they must all join at the middle where she wanted to be—where she could rest and be happy. But she was so frickin' sick of the twists and turns, whereas, she also knew, that once upon a time, before all this---when she wasn't so tired (even in her dreams,) she could just take them all in her stride, while wearing a great outfit too.

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"Honey, is that you?" she mumbled out into the twilit room.

"Oh mom, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep. I'll be out of here in a minute," Rory told her.

Lorelai sat up and switched on her bedside lamp, "No, it's all right. I feel better now. What are you looking for?"

Rory opened another drawer in the dresser and began poking about, "Your little evening bag with the green beads. Grandma's getting ready for her date with Grandpa and she forgot to bring a purse."

"Ooo! I forgot about that purse, it would be perfect with that dress!" said Lorelai getting out of bed to help her search. She went over to the closet then and pulled down a box off the shelf. "Aren't you supposed to be at the diner?"

"I need to leave in ten minutes," said Rory from under the bed.

"Oh, here it is!" called Lorelai happily. "Man, I forgot how cute this is. I need me a new green dress," she frowned thoughtfully.

"Hand it over, Zsa Zsa," demanded Rory.

Lorelai complied and followed Rory out of the room and down the stairs.

"Hey, how was the Daily Planet?"

"Peachy. I now feel I could write a dissertation on the sanitation ordinances of Stars's Hollow," Rory replied drily.

"So, 'glamorous' would be your first choice of descriptors?"

"Yep."

They were at the foot of the stairs then when Lorelai heard the doorbell ring. They stopped.

"You go give Mom the bag, I'll answer it," said Lorelai.

She pulled the door open with a grin and after beholding her father before her, gave a little wolf whistle too.

"Good evening, Lorelai," said Richard formally. "I am here to pick up Emily."

"Come on in, Dad."

In the living room they stood together; Richard awkwardly holding a florist's box. Lorelai grinning even more widely.

"I don't want any of your nonsense, Lorelai," he told her gruffly.

"Like what?"

"Oh, like asking me about my intentions or giving us a curfew or something ridiculous like that."

"Oh, I am much more sophisticated than that," commented Lorelai as she debated whether or not she could get away with a condom joke. Not, she decided. "So, what's in the box, Dad?" she asked instead.

"It is an orchid corsage for your mother. She used to be quite fond of them," said Richard. He looked past his daughter then, and she watched his eyes light up when he caught sight of Emily at the living room archway, Rory standing next to her proudly.

"It's the romantic way to do this, Lorelai," her mother said from behind her.

Lorelai turned to smile at her mom, "Oh Mom, you look beautiful!"

"Yes, she does," Richard concurred as he walked over to hand her the boxed orchid.

"Thank you, Richard," said Emily with a smile up at him. "Lorelai, would you help me put this on in the other room?"

"Sure Mom," she said and followed Emily into Rory's room.

"Thank you for lending me the purse, Lorelai," said Emily as Lorelai removed the orchid from the box and pinned it on her mother's dress.

"Sure thing."

"I found a half eaten bag of M&Ms in it," Emily sniffed.

"Ooo! Dibbs!" called Lorelai in glee as she finished up.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better after my rest."

"Well, good."

They walked back out into the living room then and the elder Gilmores even suffered having their picture taken by Rory before she hurried off to the diner. And soon, the door closed and everyone away and gone, Lorelai plopped herself down on the sofa to open up her Jane Austen.

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The next morning, Lorelai really did feel quite a bit better.

She peeked into Rory's room and decided to give the poor working girl an extra twenty minutes to sleep.

She poured a mug of coffee and went out to sit on the front porch to enjoy the morning a bit.

"Hey," she said in surprise, when she found Luke on the porch opening up a large box.

"Oh hey," he said. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Oh no," she smiled as she sat down, "I was just feeling better and got up."

"Well that's great," Luke told her with a little smile and knelt to finish opening in the carton.

"Uh, Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"What's in the box there?"

"Solar-powered walk-way lights," he explained without looking up.

"Solar-powered walk-way lights? Well... that's nice. And where are you putting them?"

"Along your new walk-way, of course," he said, and pulled out the instructions.

"Obviously," she dead-panned. "Um, Luke..."

"Ah Jeez, these damn things are in Japanese!"

"Luke..."

"I don't read Japanese!"

"Luke..."

"I mean I guess I can figure it out, but..." he looked up at her now, "They damn well better start adding Japanese to the public school curriculum if they want kids to be able to function at all in this world when they graduate, damn it! I mean how are the nation's young people supposed to put in their walk-way lights..."

"Luke!" she shouted at him

"What?!"

"Do not start the Japanese rant, I beg you!"

"Fine," he sighed and pulled a light fixture out of the box.

"Listen... Luke!"

He looked up at her.

"I think we need to talk," she told him.

"I need to get these lights put in," he looked away, "And then get back ."

"No, you need to talk to me," she told him firmly.

"But the lights need to be put up, so you won't trip on the path."

"Luke, for crying out loud! Listen, I am going in to wake Rory for work and when I come back out here, I want to talk to you, damn it."

He didn't respond. She went in quickly then to wake Rory but when she came back out onto the porch, Luke was already in the yard installing the lights. She sighed in irritation.

"The new path looks nice," she heard a soft voice say. She turned then to see Lulu sitting on the porch swing, a covered casserole in her lap.

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"Well Lulu, this is so... nice. I've never had lima bean casserole before," she smiled after Lulu had handed over the dish.

"Well, it's a great comfort food when you aren't feeling well, so I thought I'd make you one," she said sweetly.

"Thank you."

They paused a moment.

"Lorelai, could I ask you something?"

"Well sure, Lulu," Lorelai told her and sat down with her on the swing.

"It's about Kirk..."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that wealth is changing him," said Lulu sadly.

"Oh, I'm sure you're wrong, Lulu," comforted Lorelai.

"I love him, Lorelai. I love him just the way he is."

"Well, who wouldn't?" agreed Lorelai.

"And now..."

"Now?"

"Now, he's different. Since his mother died. Since all the money started coming in."

"Well, how is he different?" asked Lorelai.

"Well, the other night at the movies, he bought me the medium-sized Icee drink."

"Okay."

"I mean he knows that I love orange Icee drinks, right?"

"Right." nodded Lorelai.

"But they're very expensive. And he just goes and buys the medium size!"

"Wow."

"And there's something else."

"What's that?"

"He's talking about buying that little house over on Elm, now that his mother's place is on the market," said Lulu.

"Well, he needs a place to live, Lulu."

"I know. It's just that he wants me to go over and look at it with him. He wants me to like it before he buys it."

"Isn't that a good thing, Lulu?" Lorelai asked kindly. "Your opinion is important to him. He wants you to have what you need and want. When we love someone that becomes the most important thing."

"I know," nodded Lulu. "That's why I don't want this money to change Kirk. He has such a free entrepreneurial spirit. It is so beautiful, I mean he is just like one of the pioneers."

Lorelai's eyes widened at that as Lulu's glowed.

"And," she continued, "I don't want the money to tie him down, you know? I don't want him to feel like he has to be conventional and buy me a house. I want him to be him. I don't want a compromised Kirk. I love the Kirk I have. I don't know what to do, Lorelai."

"Lulu, you need to talk to Kirk about this. It will never get better, it will only get worse in fact, if you don't talk to him," she said thoughtfully.

"I guess. It just seems so hard. I don't want to hurt him," said Lulu dejectedly.

"I know you don't, Lulu. But trust me, Kirk would want to know if anything is making you unhappy," Lorelai urged her.

"Okay."

Lorelai comforted Lulu with a few more assurances before the young woman went off in search of Kirk, and when Lorelai looked around again, she saw that she now had solar-powered walk-way lights, but that Luke was no where in sight.

Damn.

She marched into the house and dialed the diner.

"Lane? Is Luke there?" she asked when the young woman answered the phone.

"No, he went out for a bit, Lorelai, do you want to leave a message?"

"Yes!"

"Okay."

"Um... No..."

"Okay..."

"Just tell him I called."

"Will do. Are you okay?"

"Swell," she grumped.

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It was early evening as Lorelai sat and fretfully flipped through the channels. Not a damn thing worth watching. It was cruel, she thought, that just when she could see all the TV she wanted, there was nothing on that she wanted to see.

She switched off the remote and threw it down next to her in disgust.

Luke hadn't returned any of the several messages she'd left. Lane merely saying that he had gone out and didn't know when he'd be back each time she'd called.

Her mother had called though; She'd be by tomorrow and, yes, she'd had a lovely time; And, how was she feeling? And had she tried the new sheets yet?

Lorelai sighed guiltily then and got off the couch to go upstairs to open and wash the new sheets, so she could actually be honest with Emily when next she saw her.

When she finally got the washer switched on, she heard Rory come in downstairs.

"Rory? Hun? I called for pizza. It should get here before you have to leave for the diner. And do you have any idea where Luke...?" she was downstairs herself then and looking at her daughter who was on the sofa.

"Rory? Are you okay?" she asked in concern over her daughter's expression.

Rory looked up at her Mom, "I just got a letter from Dean," she said quietly.

Lorelai looked down at the opened letter in her daughter's hand.

"Oh Rory, I'm sorry."