He saw her through the window. Her back was to him, and her feet were hanging off the ground. Her head was lowered, as if she were studying the brown liquid that most certainly filled the large blue latte cup in front of her. Her brown hair fell down around her cheeks, but she didn't seem to care enough to push it back behind her ears as she did when she was excited.
So many times, he'd stood in this very spot, watching her through the window. Eating, drinking, talking animatedly with her mother. He'd been on the other side of the window, watching her as she approached the door, knowing he'd get to hear her voice soon. He'd watched her from almost every vantage point in this tiny town, to be honest.
Never had he seen her look so tired. Her shoulders slumped, and the cup hadn't risen to her lips in the five minutes that he had been watching her.
"What the hell are you doing?"
He looked up, to see his uncle with a dishrag thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder. His face was stern and he knew before he looked at him that Luke was pissed.
"Christmas shopping. No time like the present," he wrapped his leather jacket around him tighter.
"Where've you been? She's been in there, like that, for a half an hour."
"Didn't go well with Lorelai?"
"What do you think?"
"Hey, I was out with Chris, so they could talk, and you wouldn't have to baby-sit him," Jess defended his own actions.
"You went out with Chris?"
"Yes," Jess sighed.
"That's, odd," Luke shifted his weight to his right foot before looking into the window.
"Yeah," Jess agreed.
"Get in there. It's cold. And she probably, you know. Needs you."
Jess nodded, moving past Luke and entering the diner. Rory didn't look up from her cup, even as he slid onto the stool next to her at the counter. He could smell her light perfume, and saw that she had changed out of her jeans and sweater and into a long light blue dress. It looked like it might be worn at a prom or by a bridesmaid at a tasteful wedding. He could feel the corners of his mouth curve up when he realized she was ready for their wedding.
He came around the corner to see there were still people in the diner. He was hoping that Luke would have closed by now. It was a Saturday, but this town always closed down by ten even on the weekends. It was beginning to get cold, and the November night air made him wish he had grabbed a hat. He wasn't up for hearing Luke drone on about how he'd missed half his shift earlier and therefore owed him to help close down the diner. He reached into his inside jacket pocket for his cigarettes and within seconds had one primed on his lips, lighter at the ready. That's when his eyes fell on her.
Her hair was pulled up in a bun, and she had a jean jacket on. The jacket looked completely out of place, as there was what looked to be a wedding dress sticking out from under it. She was wearing make-up, not a lot, but more than she usually wore. She didn't need make-up at all. Her porcelain skin was nearly flawless and her eyes needed no enhancement. Luke came by her table, at which she sat alone. She looked like she'd run out on her wedding. He smiled at the thought of her leaving Dean at the alter. He inhaled as the cigarette lit up, filling his lungs with the warm smoke. The reaction was instant; he was at once warm and satisfied as the nicotine hit his bloodstream.
She absently took a fry, biting into it with an amused look on her face. He fought the urge to go join her, to swipe a fry as he asked her what on earth she was doing in that outfit. She looked like a princess from one of the fairytales she loved when she was a little girl. The ones that she secretly kept in her closet, along with her copies of the Chronicles of Narnia series.
She just looked breathtaking. His resolve was waning as his cigarette burned down to just a filter. He was ready to go in and hear her tale of far off lands and magical creatures, until he saw Lorelai approaching from the opposite side of the street. She paid no attention to him, obviously lost in her own thoughts. He turned to go, glancing one last time as Lorelai said something to Rory, which caused her to raise her pinky on the hand that held the cheeseburger to her lips, as if she were having High Tea with the Queen.
The tale of the Princess and the Ball would have to wait.
"Hey," he said, taking a fry off the plate that Luke had just set down in front of Rory.
"I didn't order these," she said to no one in particular.
"You okay?"
"Mom—I'm not sure she's coming."
"What happened?"
"Maybe we should drive back to New York," she said, looking up at him suddenly.
"What happened?" he attempted to maintain his resolve, trying to figure out what had her so upset. Her face was emotionless, her hair still strewn across her face.
"Nothing," she sighed. "Everything. I've just messed up too much here to expect her to be able to be okay with this," she gestured between the man she loved and herself with the hand that held a fry. She frowned, looking at the fry and put it back down on the plate.
Jess nodded, knowing that Lorelai was liable to have more hurt inside her than one afternoon of talking could fix. He felt bad, knowing he was the cause of this canyon that had been created between them. He knew he had all the living time with Rory that Lorelai was once the recipient of; the times in the morning when she stumbled out from bed to the kitchen table, before she could even form coherent words. The look of pure bliss on her face when she took her first sip of coffee in the morning. The way she would get goofy after eating too much ice cream while watching the 'Rock 'Til you Drop' movie marathon that she'd created, including Rock Star, This Is Spinal Tap, and Almost Famous, running around the house playing air guitar and singing into her hair brush.
"We can't get back to New York before the courthouse closes."
"Oh. Right."
"In fact, we should probably get going to Hartford soon," he reminded her.
She nodded. "I'm all ready," she said matter-of-factly as if he couldn't see her.
"I just need to change. My bags are upstairs," he said. "You okay here?"
He was speaking to Rory, but his eyes fell on Luke. Luke nodded at him, as if he could read his nephew's mind. Jess placed a kiss on Rory's cheek, leaving her to stare at the fries and coffee in front of her.
She was aware of him watching her. She couldn't face him; she didn't feel like facing anyone. She felt like her final closure in this town was imminent—and it was nowhere near the feeling she'd hoped for.
"We did everything you said, Luke, honest. It just, wasn't enough," she sighed.
"I know," he said, leaning on the counter in front of her so no one else could hear them.
"She's just—I hurt her too much, leaving and all."
"She loves you. She'll come around."
Rory smiled up at Luke. She put her hand on his arm. "Thanks, but I'm not so sure."
Jess came down, in a nice suit with no tie. He nodded at Luke and walked over and stood behind Rory. He put his jacket over her shoulders before wrapping his arms around her waist.
"You guys going?"
Jess nodded, as Rory fell back against his chest. He tightened his grip as she inhaled his scent on the jacket. She felt safe, enveloped by him completely. He was holding her up, though no one who looked at them would be able to tell.
"I'm closing now, so I'll be there as soon as I can. You have all that paperwork to do anyway."
Rory let her arms slip into the jacket arms as she stood. "Thanks for the food, Luke."
He smiled at her like a proud father. She'd seen that look before, at both of her graduations. Luke was always there for the big events of her life, and she was glad he'd be there at the wedding. Even if no one else came.
"Get in the car, I'll be right out, okay?" Jess looked into her eyes as he ran a hand over her back soothingly. She nodded and headed out the door.
"I know you're going to talk to her, and you probably don't want to hear this," Jess began. "But Chris seems to be behind us. Maybe you should talk to him, get him to help you convince Lorelai."
Luke's jaw clenched in response, something Jess had expected. He knew Luke wouldn't hit him, though Jess had swung at Luke in the past. He waited for any other response; he'd given his advice. He found himself caring, wanting her to show, because it wasn't his wedding. It was theirs, and her happiness included her mother at her wedding. After a moment, Luke set his hands down on the counter and looked back at Jess. He nodded, and Jess headed for the exit.
They stood in line, her leaning up against his rib cage, and he let out a long sigh. Evidently they'd chosen the most popular day of the year to get married. In reality, they knew that most of these people were just getting their marriage licenses so they could have a New Year's Eve or Christmas wedding or something cheesy like that. He wished they could provide chairs, as his legs were getting tired from the marathon style standing.
She giggled suddenly, and turned her face into his shoulder. He looked down in amusement at her spontaneous giggle fit. He smiled into her hair and then looked up to notice all the other people in the long line turning to look at them. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, placing his lips right to the soft skin of her lobe.
"Care to share?"
She pressed her face into his shoulder a bit more before coming up to look at him, then all the others that were smiling at them.
"Dance marathon," she whispered.
She was exhausted, mentally and physically. She wasn't acknowledging the emotional strain she was under, as far as she was concerned her only problem right now was a serious lack of sleep. She just had to hang on to whatever form was in front of her. Currently, it was her boyfriend, taking the place of her mother, who'd worn shoes that were older than her grandmother and therefore broke under the strain. She'd slept through the obligatory 'I told you so,' and was now soundly resting on her too tall boyfriend's chest as she let him sway her back and forth.
She was bitter all of a sudden for his energy to hold her up. He'd been able to go home and rest, eat real meals—how did she let herself be talked into this in the first place? She opened her eyes, and they landed on the boy that had been right in front of her all weekend, no matter where she went, what direction her mother danced her in. His face, looking at her, pretending to read whatever book he'd brought—probably picked out especially to piss her off. Probably Hemingway. Damn him.
The worst part was she couldn't stop talking about him. She felt her boyfriend's grip tighten as she opened her mouth to complain. Again. About him. Again.
His brown eyes caught hers for the hundredth time this evening, and he put his arm around the blonde sitting next to him who was chomping on too many pieces of bubble gum. 'How could he even kiss her? She's not his type; his type is so obviously—Damn. Stop it. Just stop looking at him!' she commanded herself. Suddenly her boyfriend isn't holding her up anymore. He's yelling at her, and her head hurts. She wants him to stop yelling, this isn't an appropriate place to do this. Not with him watching. Not when she can't stand up by herself. No one is there to catch her as he storms off. His words wash over her, causing some level of guilt because his words are true. She doesn't love him. She would rather be with Jess. If it weren't for that Barbie gone wrong on his arm.
She just needed to sit down.
"What?"
"Standing like this, it reminded me of the dance marathon."
"And you're giggling why?"
"Tired. So tired," she yawned.
"Right," he said, shaking his head at her.
"Jess?"
Her voice sounded far away. He looked at her again, to see her giggles had subsided.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think she's coming?"
He exhaled slowly. "I hope so," his voice was genuine. He had no hope of fooling her with fake sentiment. She'd turn and storm out of this line they'd already spent an hour in. Right this second, with only five couples in front of them. She'd learned how to take no shit from anyone. She'd learned from him.
Luke made it home, knowing he only had fifteen minutes to convince Lorelai to go to the courthouse. He saw Chris' car still in the driveway, almost thankful for the backup. HE entered the house to find Lorelai sitting on the couch, hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing sweats. And what looked to be Garfield slippers. 'When did she get Garfield slippers?' he thought to himself. Chris was sitting on the coffee table in front of her, looking exasperated. He was dressed in a suit, obviously ready to go to Hartford.
Chris looked to Luke, as if in victory. "Luke's going, aren't you?"
"To the wedding?"
"Yeah."
"Uh, yeah. I am. Aren't we all?" he asked, as if he didn't know that Lorelai was protesting. She turned her head to look at him in disgust.
"Have fun. I have some stuff to take care of," she said nonchalantly.
"Lorelai," Luke sighed. "What stuff can't wait?"
"It's business. Inn stuff."
"Lore," he said, sitting on the arm of the couch. He looked over at Chris, who shrugged, then back to her. He put his hand on her shoulder.
"This is your daughter getting married. She's only going to do it once. Maybe you feel like you don't want to go, but what about seven years from now, when you're wondering what your grandchildren look like?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she leaned her head back against the couch. Could she live with herself if she didn't go to this wedding? Rory seemed to be just fine living without her so far. She wasn't concerned with this consequence four years ago when she just left without so much as a goodbye.
"Lore, come on. It's Rory," Chris said softly.
"I just, need a second," she said, standing and disappearing up the stairs. Chris hung his head as Luke stood up.
"I've been trying. I got back and she was pretty upset. I found her on the couch, eating ice cream out of one of those tubs, the size you could give a baby a bath in, and crying."
"We should get going. I just need to change out of these clothes," Luke sighed, moving up the stairs after Lorelai.
Luke found Lorelai in front of her closet, throwing clothes out over both shoulders. He stood in the doorway, watching her work through this in her mind. She finally stepped back and fell down on the floor, sitting amongst a pile of all her clothes.
"I don't have anything to wear," she claimed, shaking her head. She couldn't cry again, she just couldn't.
"Wear what you're wearing," Luke offered.
"I have the word Juicy on my ass. I can't go to anyone's wedding. Not even Pam Anderson's, looking like this."
"Lore, she doesn't care what you're wearing. She just wants you there."
She looked up into his eyes, at his obvious concern for her. He loved her more than she would probably ever know, and she knew he just wanted her to be happy. Just like he loved her daughter and wanted her to be happy as well. Unfortunately he also loved Jess, and protected him as if he were his own son. He knew Rory and Jess belonged together. Something they had always disagreed to disagree on.
"I'm just not so sure," she said, looking back into her empty closet.
So many times, he'd stood in this very spot, watching her through the window. Eating, drinking, talking animatedly with her mother. He'd been on the other side of the window, watching her as she approached the door, knowing he'd get to hear her voice soon. He'd watched her from almost every vantage point in this tiny town, to be honest.
Never had he seen her look so tired. Her shoulders slumped, and the cup hadn't risen to her lips in the five minutes that he had been watching her.
"What the hell are you doing?"
He looked up, to see his uncle with a dishrag thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder. His face was stern and he knew before he looked at him that Luke was pissed.
"Christmas shopping. No time like the present," he wrapped his leather jacket around him tighter.
"Where've you been? She's been in there, like that, for a half an hour."
"Didn't go well with Lorelai?"
"What do you think?"
"Hey, I was out with Chris, so they could talk, and you wouldn't have to baby-sit him," Jess defended his own actions.
"You went out with Chris?"
"Yes," Jess sighed.
"That's, odd," Luke shifted his weight to his right foot before looking into the window.
"Yeah," Jess agreed.
"Get in there. It's cold. And she probably, you know. Needs you."
Jess nodded, moving past Luke and entering the diner. Rory didn't look up from her cup, even as he slid onto the stool next to her at the counter. He could smell her light perfume, and saw that she had changed out of her jeans and sweater and into a long light blue dress. It looked like it might be worn at a prom or by a bridesmaid at a tasteful wedding. He could feel the corners of his mouth curve up when he realized she was ready for their wedding.
He came around the corner to see there were still people in the diner. He was hoping that Luke would have closed by now. It was a Saturday, but this town always closed down by ten even on the weekends. It was beginning to get cold, and the November night air made him wish he had grabbed a hat. He wasn't up for hearing Luke drone on about how he'd missed half his shift earlier and therefore owed him to help close down the diner. He reached into his inside jacket pocket for his cigarettes and within seconds had one primed on his lips, lighter at the ready. That's when his eyes fell on her.
Her hair was pulled up in a bun, and she had a jean jacket on. The jacket looked completely out of place, as there was what looked to be a wedding dress sticking out from under it. She was wearing make-up, not a lot, but more than she usually wore. She didn't need make-up at all. Her porcelain skin was nearly flawless and her eyes needed no enhancement. Luke came by her table, at which she sat alone. She looked like she'd run out on her wedding. He smiled at the thought of her leaving Dean at the alter. He inhaled as the cigarette lit up, filling his lungs with the warm smoke. The reaction was instant; he was at once warm and satisfied as the nicotine hit his bloodstream.
She absently took a fry, biting into it with an amused look on her face. He fought the urge to go join her, to swipe a fry as he asked her what on earth she was doing in that outfit. She looked like a princess from one of the fairytales she loved when she was a little girl. The ones that she secretly kept in her closet, along with her copies of the Chronicles of Narnia series.
She just looked breathtaking. His resolve was waning as his cigarette burned down to just a filter. He was ready to go in and hear her tale of far off lands and magical creatures, until he saw Lorelai approaching from the opposite side of the street. She paid no attention to him, obviously lost in her own thoughts. He turned to go, glancing one last time as Lorelai said something to Rory, which caused her to raise her pinky on the hand that held the cheeseburger to her lips, as if she were having High Tea with the Queen.
The tale of the Princess and the Ball would have to wait.
"Hey," he said, taking a fry off the plate that Luke had just set down in front of Rory.
"I didn't order these," she said to no one in particular.
"You okay?"
"Mom—I'm not sure she's coming."
"What happened?"
"Maybe we should drive back to New York," she said, looking up at him suddenly.
"What happened?" he attempted to maintain his resolve, trying to figure out what had her so upset. Her face was emotionless, her hair still strewn across her face.
"Nothing," she sighed. "Everything. I've just messed up too much here to expect her to be able to be okay with this," she gestured between the man she loved and herself with the hand that held a fry. She frowned, looking at the fry and put it back down on the plate.
Jess nodded, knowing that Lorelai was liable to have more hurt inside her than one afternoon of talking could fix. He felt bad, knowing he was the cause of this canyon that had been created between them. He knew he had all the living time with Rory that Lorelai was once the recipient of; the times in the morning when she stumbled out from bed to the kitchen table, before she could even form coherent words. The look of pure bliss on her face when she took her first sip of coffee in the morning. The way she would get goofy after eating too much ice cream while watching the 'Rock 'Til you Drop' movie marathon that she'd created, including Rock Star, This Is Spinal Tap, and Almost Famous, running around the house playing air guitar and singing into her hair brush.
"We can't get back to New York before the courthouse closes."
"Oh. Right."
"In fact, we should probably get going to Hartford soon," he reminded her.
She nodded. "I'm all ready," she said matter-of-factly as if he couldn't see her.
"I just need to change. My bags are upstairs," he said. "You okay here?"
He was speaking to Rory, but his eyes fell on Luke. Luke nodded at him, as if he could read his nephew's mind. Jess placed a kiss on Rory's cheek, leaving her to stare at the fries and coffee in front of her.
She was aware of him watching her. She couldn't face him; she didn't feel like facing anyone. She felt like her final closure in this town was imminent—and it was nowhere near the feeling she'd hoped for.
"We did everything you said, Luke, honest. It just, wasn't enough," she sighed.
"I know," he said, leaning on the counter in front of her so no one else could hear them.
"She's just—I hurt her too much, leaving and all."
"She loves you. She'll come around."
Rory smiled up at Luke. She put her hand on his arm. "Thanks, but I'm not so sure."
Jess came down, in a nice suit with no tie. He nodded at Luke and walked over and stood behind Rory. He put his jacket over her shoulders before wrapping his arms around her waist.
"You guys going?"
Jess nodded, as Rory fell back against his chest. He tightened his grip as she inhaled his scent on the jacket. She felt safe, enveloped by him completely. He was holding her up, though no one who looked at them would be able to tell.
"I'm closing now, so I'll be there as soon as I can. You have all that paperwork to do anyway."
Rory let her arms slip into the jacket arms as she stood. "Thanks for the food, Luke."
He smiled at her like a proud father. She'd seen that look before, at both of her graduations. Luke was always there for the big events of her life, and she was glad he'd be there at the wedding. Even if no one else came.
"Get in the car, I'll be right out, okay?" Jess looked into her eyes as he ran a hand over her back soothingly. She nodded and headed out the door.
"I know you're going to talk to her, and you probably don't want to hear this," Jess began. "But Chris seems to be behind us. Maybe you should talk to him, get him to help you convince Lorelai."
Luke's jaw clenched in response, something Jess had expected. He knew Luke wouldn't hit him, though Jess had swung at Luke in the past. He waited for any other response; he'd given his advice. He found himself caring, wanting her to show, because it wasn't his wedding. It was theirs, and her happiness included her mother at her wedding. After a moment, Luke set his hands down on the counter and looked back at Jess. He nodded, and Jess headed for the exit.
They stood in line, her leaning up against his rib cage, and he let out a long sigh. Evidently they'd chosen the most popular day of the year to get married. In reality, they knew that most of these people were just getting their marriage licenses so they could have a New Year's Eve or Christmas wedding or something cheesy like that. He wished they could provide chairs, as his legs were getting tired from the marathon style standing.
She giggled suddenly, and turned her face into his shoulder. He looked down in amusement at her spontaneous giggle fit. He smiled into her hair and then looked up to notice all the other people in the long line turning to look at them. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, placing his lips right to the soft skin of her lobe.
"Care to share?"
She pressed her face into his shoulder a bit more before coming up to look at him, then all the others that were smiling at them.
"Dance marathon," she whispered.
She was exhausted, mentally and physically. She wasn't acknowledging the emotional strain she was under, as far as she was concerned her only problem right now was a serious lack of sleep. She just had to hang on to whatever form was in front of her. Currently, it was her boyfriend, taking the place of her mother, who'd worn shoes that were older than her grandmother and therefore broke under the strain. She'd slept through the obligatory 'I told you so,' and was now soundly resting on her too tall boyfriend's chest as she let him sway her back and forth.
She was bitter all of a sudden for his energy to hold her up. He'd been able to go home and rest, eat real meals—how did she let herself be talked into this in the first place? She opened her eyes, and they landed on the boy that had been right in front of her all weekend, no matter where she went, what direction her mother danced her in. His face, looking at her, pretending to read whatever book he'd brought—probably picked out especially to piss her off. Probably Hemingway. Damn him.
The worst part was she couldn't stop talking about him. She felt her boyfriend's grip tighten as she opened her mouth to complain. Again. About him. Again.
His brown eyes caught hers for the hundredth time this evening, and he put his arm around the blonde sitting next to him who was chomping on too many pieces of bubble gum. 'How could he even kiss her? She's not his type; his type is so obviously—Damn. Stop it. Just stop looking at him!' she commanded herself. Suddenly her boyfriend isn't holding her up anymore. He's yelling at her, and her head hurts. She wants him to stop yelling, this isn't an appropriate place to do this. Not with him watching. Not when she can't stand up by herself. No one is there to catch her as he storms off. His words wash over her, causing some level of guilt because his words are true. She doesn't love him. She would rather be with Jess. If it weren't for that Barbie gone wrong on his arm.
She just needed to sit down.
"What?"
"Standing like this, it reminded me of the dance marathon."
"And you're giggling why?"
"Tired. So tired," she yawned.
"Right," he said, shaking his head at her.
"Jess?"
Her voice sounded far away. He looked at her again, to see her giggles had subsided.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think she's coming?"
He exhaled slowly. "I hope so," his voice was genuine. He had no hope of fooling her with fake sentiment. She'd turn and storm out of this line they'd already spent an hour in. Right this second, with only five couples in front of them. She'd learned how to take no shit from anyone. She'd learned from him.
Luke made it home, knowing he only had fifteen minutes to convince Lorelai to go to the courthouse. He saw Chris' car still in the driveway, almost thankful for the backup. HE entered the house to find Lorelai sitting on the couch, hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing sweats. And what looked to be Garfield slippers. 'When did she get Garfield slippers?' he thought to himself. Chris was sitting on the coffee table in front of her, looking exasperated. He was dressed in a suit, obviously ready to go to Hartford.
Chris looked to Luke, as if in victory. "Luke's going, aren't you?"
"To the wedding?"
"Yeah."
"Uh, yeah. I am. Aren't we all?" he asked, as if he didn't know that Lorelai was protesting. She turned her head to look at him in disgust.
"Have fun. I have some stuff to take care of," she said nonchalantly.
"Lorelai," Luke sighed. "What stuff can't wait?"
"It's business. Inn stuff."
"Lore," he said, sitting on the arm of the couch. He looked over at Chris, who shrugged, then back to her. He put his hand on her shoulder.
"This is your daughter getting married. She's only going to do it once. Maybe you feel like you don't want to go, but what about seven years from now, when you're wondering what your grandchildren look like?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she leaned her head back against the couch. Could she live with herself if she didn't go to this wedding? Rory seemed to be just fine living without her so far. She wasn't concerned with this consequence four years ago when she just left without so much as a goodbye.
"Lore, come on. It's Rory," Chris said softly.
"I just, need a second," she said, standing and disappearing up the stairs. Chris hung his head as Luke stood up.
"I've been trying. I got back and she was pretty upset. I found her on the couch, eating ice cream out of one of those tubs, the size you could give a baby a bath in, and crying."
"We should get going. I just need to change out of these clothes," Luke sighed, moving up the stairs after Lorelai.
Luke found Lorelai in front of her closet, throwing clothes out over both shoulders. He stood in the doorway, watching her work through this in her mind. She finally stepped back and fell down on the floor, sitting amongst a pile of all her clothes.
"I don't have anything to wear," she claimed, shaking her head. She couldn't cry again, she just couldn't.
"Wear what you're wearing," Luke offered.
"I have the word Juicy on my ass. I can't go to anyone's wedding. Not even Pam Anderson's, looking like this."
"Lore, she doesn't care what you're wearing. She just wants you there."
She looked up into his eyes, at his obvious concern for her. He loved her more than she would probably ever know, and she knew he just wanted her to be happy. Just like he loved her daughter and wanted her to be happy as well. Unfortunately he also loved Jess, and protected him as if he were his own son. He knew Rory and Jess belonged together. Something they had always disagreed to disagree on.
"I'm just not so sure," she said, looking back into her empty closet.