It seems like it is hours before a phone goes off and the policeman sitting across from Mom and me stands up. As he goes to take his call, he touches my shoulder on the way into the front hallway. "Mom?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from wavering. I know I have to be strong for her. I've always been the one keeping her together but now she needs me even more.

I sit up, hoping she'll turn and look at me, but she hasn't moved. I know this can't be good. I've always known what to do for her and suddenly I feel lost. This is like an out of body experience. I'm staring at Mom and me on the couch going, 'Rory, do something', but I can't. I don't know what to do. Finally, I turn her face towards me.

Mom slowly opens her eyes and looks at me. I can't read the expression on her face, but I can tell she's gone pale. Mom and I are always the pale ones but this is so much worse. She looks sick to me. "Luke," she whispers, causing my heart to contract. Oh Mom. I love – loved him too.

"Luke's dead," I say. The tears finally start to run down her face.

"No!" she screams, suddenly sobbing. I pull her to me as she sobs into my chest, harder than ever before.

A year ago, Mom's dog, Paul Anka, was diagnosed with cancer. I stopped over after work to find her sitting at the kitchen table, a cold cup of coffee in front of her, staring at nothing. She told me about Paul Anka and that Luke had to take the dog to the vet to be put down because it was the best thing for poor Paul Anka. Then she began to cry.

Now, Mom's not a big crier, but Paul Anka was important to her, almost like her own child for reasons that are all my fault. What's worse is that the dog wasn't that old. I remember her crying then, saying things were never going to be the same. I know she loved Paul Anka and she grieved for him. I remember Luke coming home and holding her until she stopped crying and went upstairs to sleep. The next morning, Luke told me he let her sleep in and made her a special breakfast at his diner and reminded her that he loved her and she had him and all the kids. Luke is - was my mom's rock.

The policeman walks back into the room, taking me out of my memories. "Ms. Danes," he says. It takes me a moment to realize he's talking to me. I glance over at him and nod. The twins. April. Oh Lord.

After helping Mom into a lying position on the couch, I stand up. I have to look away from her because I can't stand to see her in this much pain anymore. She's still sobbing uncontrollably as she curls up into a little ball. I'm still trying to contain myself and I take a deep breath. I walk over to the policeman.

"It's Mrs. Buchman actually," I tell the police officer. "Formerly Ms. Gilmore, Luke's – was my stepfather." He nods. What does he care? I mean what does that mean – stepfather? He was so much more. No time for these thoughts now. "Rory's my name."

"Rory, I need someone to identify the body." Oh Lord, I think as I rub my forehead. I'm trying to think of someone who could do this because I know it would kill Mom to see him like that and I hate the sight of blood.

"I'll find someone," I promise, not knowing how I'm going to do that.

"Also…" After a moment, I realize he's not going to finish the sentence. He's motioning out the window at the twins and his partner.

"They can't see Mom like this," I say, more for myself than him. I take a deep breath, knowing I don't have time to deal with my own feelings right now. I've got to take charge. I have to take care of mom, then twins, and everything else that needs to be done.

"We can take them somewhere," he offers. But where? Sookie's? No, Sookie loves Luke. I don't think she could handle the news without upsetting the twins. And I still haven't thought of how to tell them, but I know that Mom has to be the one to tell them and that isn't going to happen at this moment. Grandma? No, I really don't want them to be that far away. Someone who knows the twins but wasn't that close to Luke. And suddenly a name comes to mind.

"One second." I pick up the phone, dialing a number I once knew by heart.

"Hello?" Hearing Dean's voice suddenly makes me realize I can do this. "Hello?"

"Dean?" I say.

"Rory?" We are still friends but not as close as we once were. I have Marty and my family and Dean has his wife, Natalie, who bought Weston's Bakery, and their son, Austin. We just don't have time for each other like we used to but every time we talk it's as if no time has passed. He knows me so well.

"Dean, I need a favor."

"Rory? Are you all right? Is it Marty?"

"No. No, we're – it's – can you watch the twins for a little while?"

"Lorelai's kids? Sure." I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing I made the right choice. "Rory, what's going on? Are you all right? Is Lorelai all right?"

"Mom's – it's Luke. He's – he – he died," I finally manage.

"I'll be right over," he says instantly, bringing a soft smile to my face. Dean's always the same.

"No, it's okay. The policeman will drop them by your place."

"No problem. I'm here for ya." I hang up, staring at the phone a moment. Dean's right, he's always there at the right moment.

"Dean's going to watch them. Dean Forrester. I'll write down his address for you," I tell the policeman. I write down the address and hand it to him.

"We have to be getting back but if there something else you need right now – should I get a doctor for her?" he asks, motioning towards my mom. I glance over at her and immediately tear up.

Mom is still in fetal position, shaking and sobbing. I've never seen her like this and I had never expected to. She's the strong one. She keeps herself together. She's stagnate. This is not my mother. This is pieces of my mother breaking apart because she lost the only man she'll ever love.

Dean was my first boyfriend. On our third month anniversary, we broke because I couldn't respond when he said he loved me. I mean it wasn't a common thing for me growing up. Mom always told me she loved me, but that's different. She had zillions of guys when I was growing up and a few long term boyfriends, but she never said those words to them. Not even to Max and she almost married him. My father, Christopher, said he loved her but she couldn't say it back because she knew she didn't and therefore didn't marry him.

When Mom found out what happened between Dean and me, she sat me down and insisted that I not be like her this sense. If I know I love someone then I've got to tell them. Some people love more than one person. I have. I loved Dean. I loved Jess, I think. I loved Logan, or at least parts. But not like Marty. I'll always love Marty. He's a constant. Mom's different. She never thought she would love anyone until Luke. I think she had decided that I was enough. And I'm sure that would have been true. But when you love leaves you and you still love them, part of you leaves, part of you stays, part of you goes wandering, part of you is stuck, and parts of you are running away, breaking you into these little pieces.

"Rory?" the policeman asks again.

"No," I whisper. "No, I'll take care of it, thanks." He nods and walks out. I watch him from the window. He talks to his partner and then squats down to Will and Katie's level. I watch him talk to them, get them into the car and drive away. And now I'm alone. Alone in the house, with my mother and a part of me just wants to run because I'm not the strong one.

What should I do? I think about those bracelets that were so popular when I was in high school, What Would Jesus Do? Mom made one for herself that said What Would Satan Do? I need one right now. It would say What Would Lorelai Gilmore Do?

I can't do this, at least not alone. I pick up the phone again. I have to call for help. Raise the white flag. Send up a flare. I've got nothing left. I dial another well know number.

"Hello?" my grandma's voice comes through the phone.

"Grandma?"

"Rory," she says, obviously not noticing the smallness of my voice. "Are you girls on your way yet? You're going to be stuck in traffic again."

"Grandma, we're not coming."

"Why not? Your mother no longer has an excuse and you most certainly do not, your husband his here."

"It's Luke. He and Will spent the day in New York. They happened into a robbery at a pizza place. Luke was killed, he was shot trying to save Will." Man, I never want to tell this story again. I hear Grandma talking to Grandpa and possibly Marty. "Grandma, I need a favor."

"Yes, Rory, what can we do?"

"I need – someone to identify the body." I hear muffled sounds again.

"Your grandfather will go." Thank God. Grandpa can do that without getting emotional. One down, a million more to go.

"Grandma, do you know a doctor that can come? Mom's in really bad shape and the policeman suggested…"

"I'll call one right away."

"Thanks." No matter what Mom says about her parents, they're always helpful.

"Marty and I are on our way, we'll see you soon Rory," she says, without asking, and hangs up. No matter what Mom says about her parents, they love her. And of course, I don't mind that she didn't ask. I need them. I need Marty. I can already feel his arms around me, loving me, telling me we can get through this and he'll be there throughout.

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