"What are you doing here?" Rory asked, still not sure that the woman in front of her wouldn't disappear before her eyes. "I mean, are you visiting or home for good? What about the cancer? I don't—"
"Slow down honey," Lorelai said going to her daughter and pulling her into her arms. "You're going to give yourself a stroke."
"But why are you back so soon?" Rory asked into her mother's shoulder. "And are you really back?"
"I'm back," Lorelai replied. "I'm back for good as far as I know."
"But what about treatment?" Rory asked tears of joy spilling down her cheeks. "Is the cancer gone?" Her voice was so filled with hope.
"Not quite," Lorelai replied sadly as she pulled away from her daughter, "but the doctors said that the treatment contained it enough that I can continue treatment at Hartford General."
"So you're really back?" Rory asked one more time, as if the information was just sinking in.
"I'm really back," Lorelai smiled that smile that Rory had been so eager to see, the one that said that everything was going to be alright.
Rory didn't say anything. She just hugged her mother again, glad that she was able to. They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms for what seemed like forever before they remembered there were other people in the room.
"Hey," Lorelai chuckled pulling away so she could look at Grace and John, tears sparkling in her eyes, "come join the homecoming celebration."
"That's okay," Grace smiled, pulling John's arm as she stood up. "I think John and I are going to leave you guys alone for a while to catch up." Waving a goodbye, they left the apartment.
"So," Rory said as they sat down on the couch, "tell me what's been going on. How many cups of coffee have you had since the doctors let you out?"
"Twelve," Lorelai replied looking down almost guiltily. "But they let me out fifteen hours ago."
"Completely understandable," Rory nodded smiling.
"But no matter what, nothing will compare to Luke's coffee," Lorelai smiled just thinking of the heavenly liquid. "The last two weeks without it has been utter torture."
"I know," Rory agreed. "I found this place that makes okay coffee, but it doesn't compare."
"You will show me this place in the morning," Lor said resolutely.
"Oh, definitely," Rory replied smiling. "Oh, and the record store. You will love this record store. Lane would want to want to live there."
"Sounds great," Lor said. "So what's been up with you?" she asked. "Besides being attacked by big scary men?" She reached up and brushed her thumb against the bruise on Rory's cheek.
"They told you about that?" Rory asked hesitantly.
"Yeah," she replied a little sadly. "You okay?"
"I'm okay," Rory assured her. "Just a few scratches and bruises. I'll be fine."
"That's good to hear," Lor said. "I mean, I heard the words 'mugged at knifepoint' and I seriously thought I was having a heart attack."
"It was horrible," Rory told her. "He grabbed me on my way home and took my wallet and my watch. I was so scared, and then Jess saved me."
"Jess," Lor said raising her eyebrows. "He was the one you spoke oh so vaguely about over the phone the other day. You two make up?"
"Yeah," Rory smiled shyly. "We talked this morning and then he took me out for coffee and roller coasters."
"Because those two things usually go hand in hand," Lor quipped. "And?"
"And we're together," Rory smiled, and then her face fell. "Or at least we were," she said, a hint of apprehension in her voice. "We're going back to Stars Hollow, aren't we?"
"That was the plan," Lor replied sympathetically, already following her daughter's train of thought.
"I have to tell him," Rory felt like she might cry. She had been so happy all day, and then come home to the best surprise in the world, and now she would have to say goodbye to her only source of joy the last two and a half weeks. "I need to make a call."
"Okay sweetie," Lor said standing up. "I have to take a shower. When I get out, you and I are doing some serious girl talk."
"Deal," Rory gave her departing mother a sad smile before picking up the cordless. Dialing his number, she listened to the monotonous ring for a few moments before she heard his voice.
"Hello?" his voice was tired, but held a lightness that broke her heart.
"Hey," she breathed into the receiver.
"Hey," he replied, and she could hear his smile.
"How are you?" she asked stalling for time, unable to make herself speak.
"I'm good," he replied. Then after a second, "Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"I saw you five minutes ago," there was a slight chuckle in his voice. "Now you know I always love to hear your voice, but is there some reason in particular you called?"
"Yeah," she answered but couldn't form any other words.
"And that would be?"
"I can't . . ." she struggled to keep her voice under control, ". . . I need to talk to you in person, but not now. Can you meet me tomorrow morning at the coffeehouse?"
"Yeah, sure," he replied, and she could tell that he was worried. He sounded almost hurt, as if he thought he had caused her sudden discomfort. "Is everything okay? You sound sad."
"I . . . I just need to see you," she said. "I'll be at the coffeehouse around seven."
"Okay," he agreed. "I'll be there."
"I'll see you then," she sighed. "Goodnight Jess."
"Goodnight Rory," he replied, and they both hung up the phone.
Rory sat back on the couch, trying to figure out how to make the world stop spinning around her.
***The next morning***
"Rory," Jess said coming to sit at their booth where she was already sitting with her third cup of coffee. She knew she had said seven, but she'd been up for two hours already and this liquid was keeping her relatively sane.
"Jess," she looked up from where she was staring at a small bleach stain on the tabletop. "Hey."
"How are you?" he asked sitting next to her and giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "You sounded weird on the phone last night."
"I know," she said looking down again, not wanting him to read her eyes. She knew he wouldn't like what he saw there. "I have to tell you something."
"What is it?" She could tell he was worried. His entire being seemed to be tense, readying itself for something horrible. "You can tell me anything."
"I know," she smiled sadly. "It's just that . . . when I got home yesterday, there was someone waiting there for me."
"Who?"
"My mom," she said softly, unable to meet his eyes.
"That's great," he said smiling. He knew she had been worried about it, and now she would be okay. Now he could stop watching her cry. He hated to see her cry. So why did she look like she was ready to break down right then. "That is great, isn't it? I mean, she's okay, right?"
"Yeah," Rory sniffled looking up into his chocolate eyes, the eyes that always brought her comfort. "She's okay. Her specialist said that the cancer is contained enough that she can resume her treatments here in the States . . . back in Hartford."
"Hartford," he said, the point finally striking him. "And you're going with her."
"Yeah," she said looking down again, a tear trailing down her face involuntarily at the sound of his voice. He sounded almost broken. "I have one day to pack and get everything all ready, and we're driving home tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning," he repeated looking down at his hands resting on the table. It was so sudden. He had only just found her, and now she was leaving the next day. What kind of sick twist of fate was that?
"I hate this," Rory's voice broke through his thoughts. "I hate that in one day, I finally got the two things I wanted, and now I have to give one up for the other."
"She's your mother, Rory," Jess pointed out with a tone of reluctant acceptance. "You have to go. You have to go live your perfect life with your perfect mother in your perfect one-horse town. That's the way things are."
"But what about you?" she asked as he looked up into her eyes again. He saw such pain there, such unrest. "I don't want to turn my back on this. I don't want to turn my back on us just when there finally is an us."
"Hey," he said turning to her, his voice calming, "I'll only be a few hours away. I have a phone and an address. You can call me anytime."
"But it won't be the same," she cried. "I'll go back home and you'll forget about me. You'll find another girl and . . ."
"No, Rory, no," he said pulling her into his arms as she cried into his shoulder. "That's not going to happen. I promise you that won't happen. I couldn't possibly find another girl like you. It's not possible."
"But . . ."
"I'm not giving up on this," he said definitively. "I really like you Rory Gilmore, and I'm not going to throw that away just because I can't buy you coffee every morning. Are you?"
She pulled away from him just enough to look into his eyes. They were so sincere, so deep. She could see all the way to eternity in their chocolate brown hue. "No," she said smiling through her tears. "I'm not."
"Good," he smiled sadly and leaned down to brush his lips against hers.
She closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the feeling. This kiss was different than all its predecessors. It was tender and passionate, but it was also desperate and filled with longing. They poured all their fear and confusion for the future into that one embrace. They let every bit of desperation and need seep into that kiss, and it was more amazing than either of them could have imagined.
Losing all coherent thought, Jess cupped her cheeks in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumb. He knew that he was going to lose her. He knew that she would go home and find someone better and more deserving of her. Yes, he would try the long distance thing, but he knew that in the end, she wouldn't be able to do it. She didn't deserve to have a boyfriend who couldn't touch her, kiss her, hold her when she was upset. She deserved so much more than him, but he would be there as long as she would have him.
When they finally broke apart, Rory buried her face in his neck, not wanting to be let go. He whispered to her, empty assurances he didn't think either of them could keep. Still, he would try. He would try everything in his power to keep this angel in his arms from flying away. She was his angel, he knew. He had saved his life in only two weeks. She had changed him without even knowing it. And now she was crying into his neck, trying desperately not to say goodbye. Holding her close and kissing her hair, he prayed he wasn't losing her forever.
"So," he said finally, "are you spending the day with your mom or can I have you for a few hours?"
"Mom and Aunt Grace are spending the morning together, catching up and everything," she replied, her voice calmer but still soft. "She wants to meet for lunch, but I'm free until then."
"Okay," he said, "let's go."
"Where are we going?" she asked, a twinge of curiosity in her voice as they walked out of the coffeehouse.
"Well," he said matter-of-factly, "I did promise to take you shopping for a new watch. I owe you a trip to some of the good thrift stores around here."
"Really?" she asked smiling. "That sounds great."
"I thought you might like that," he said. They walked in a comfortable silence.
"This is amazing!" Rory squealed as they entered their third little shop of the morning. She looked over at Jess who was carrying her three shopping bags in one of his hands so he could hold her hand in his other. "I never knew you could find such fun stuff in New York for so cheap."
"I don't think you can anymore," Jess said, his voice teasing. "I think you brought the entire store with you."
"I'm not that bad!" she protested as she went to a rack of shirts. "I got all this stuff for under $50. And besides, Mom told me to have fun with the hundred bucks she gave me this morning. She said, and I quote, 'I don't care what you do with it as long as I don't need to bail you out of jail with it.' And so far, I hear no sirens, so it's all good."
"Well, if you buy that shirt I'm going to have to call the police," he said pointing to the boy band t-shirt she had picked up with mock interest.
"What?" she asked sarcastically, holding it up in front of her. "You don't think it would look good on me?"
"Rory, a garbage bag would look good on you," he said taking the shirt and putting it back on the rack, "but that's just wrong."
She blushed at the casual compliment, turning to look at another rack as she tried to hide her reddened cheeks. She shuffled through a few pairs of jeans before she set her sights on a patchwork corduroy skirt. She checked the price and slung it over her arm. Another great deal. After finding a cute peasant top and a pair of dark blue jeans for dirt cheap, she was ready to go.
"Thank you so much for showing me these little shops," she said as Jess joined her in front of the register. "I love all this secondhand stuff."
"I'm glad you're having fun," he said, his eyes smiling though his voice was laid back.
"What should we do?" she asked checking her new watch. "We still have two hours before I have to be back at the coffeehouse."
"I vote for Jay's," he said as they left the shop. "She likes you. She probably wouldn't want you to leave without saying goodbye."
"Yeah," she said, her voice taking on a melancholy tone. "I'm gonna miss her and that place."
"You can come visit anytime you know," he pointed out. "It's only a few hours drive from Hartford."
"Yeah," she said distantly. "I'm sure there will be weekends when I'm not too busy with homework and stuff."
"I'm sure," he assured her, but a hint of doubt slipped into his voice.
"It might be hard though," she admitted. "As I said before, my teachers are fanatical about tests and quizzes and homework. It's really ridiculous."
"I know," he said knowing that the conversation was heading in a different direction now. It was no longer about Jay's but about them.
"And then there's stuff I do with my mom, and town events that I help out with . . ." she was squeezing his hand tightly, seemingly unaware that she was doing so. ". . . and my mom will need the car for her doctors appointments, and I don't even know if she wants me to go with her to those, but I want to go anyway, and . . ."
"Rory, breathe," Jess said as she began to cut off his circulation. "It'll be okay."
"Will it?" she asked turning to him with worry in her eyes. "How will it be okay? I don't know how to make this okay."
"Look," he said taking her face in his hands, "I want this to work with you and me, and I'm willing to try if you are, but I also know that it may not. I'm not really okay with that, but that's how things are. There's nothing you or I can do about it, so worrying about it isn't going to do you any good. I just want to enjoy the time I do have with you and hope for the best."
"Hope for the best?" she asked, her voice strained. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"There's nothing else we can do," he said sadly. "It's not like New York City is magically going to transport itself to Connecticut."
"I know!" she cried turning away from him, walking a few feet away as she wrapped her arms around her body. "I was up half the night knowing that, and I'm no closer to figuring it out than I was at one this morning, but I have to."
He watched her for a moment, her shoulders hunched in near-defeat as she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. He wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, that they would be okay. But that would be a lie because he didn't believe that. As much as he wanted to, he knew that when he said goodbye and watched her leave the next day, it would probably be the last time he saw her.
"Rory," he said coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, "I don't want to fight with you right now. I want to spend these last few hours with my girlfriend. If this is the last time I see you, I don't want to waste it."
She turned around in his arms, leaning her forehead on his chest. "Me neither," she said finally. "I'm sorry. I keep breaking down on you. I swear, you must have spent the bigger part of these last weeks reassuring me. I hate that I'm being like this."
"Don't apologize," he said lifting her chin so her eyes met his, his voice gentle and comforting. "There's nothing to be sorry for. The only reason I'm not as insane over this as you are is because unlike me, you hold your emotions out for everyone to see. I'm just as upset as you, but again, there's nothing I can do to change it. I just want to make it through today. I'll worry about tomorrow when it gets here."
"You know you're good at the whole comforting thing," she said reluctantly, her voice still sad but holding a certain amount of understanding.
"I believe a certain girl has told me that before," he smirked, brushing the hair from her face with his thumb. Then after a moment of just staring into her blue topaz eyes, he broke her gaze. "So," he said quietly, "you still want to go to Jay's?"
"Yeah," she replied and they resumed their leisurely walk, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.
Ten minutes later, they were snuggled together on the couch in and classic lit section of Jay's bookstore. She was stretched out across the couch while she sat between his legs, resting back against his chest.
Jess tried to concentrate on his book, but he thoughts streaming through his head made it impossible. It wasn't a bad book in the least. Not as sophisticated as he usually read, being a young adult novel, but Breathing Underwater was actually pretty deep. It looked at an abusive relationship through the eyes of the abuser. Fairly disturbing. And yet, every word was lost on him at the moment.
Right then, he felt like he was doing just that: breathing underwater. As he took in the scent of her, he could feel his lungs filling with liquid, choking him, weighing him down. He was sinking slowly with nothing to grasp onto because she was leaving. She wouldn't be there to hold his head above water, to keep him sane.
He silently berated himself for getting so worked up about a girl. He had had his share of girlfriends before she walked into his world, but in less than three weeks, he had grown more attached to her than he had to any other girl he'd met. It was stupid, insane, and yet there he was thinking about her again.
"You know," Rory's voice broke though his thoughts, a hint of playful scolding in her tone, "if you don't watch out, your face is going to sick that way."
He looked at her, her eyes searching his like they always did. "I could say the same thing to you Miss Gilmore," he said smiling a little.
"You've been reading that page for the last five minutes."
"I know," he admitted. "I can't concentrate on my book right now. It's too serious."
"I know what you mean," she sighed. "This book is probably lighter than that, but it's still kinda depressing right now. I think I'm gonna go get another one." She went to stand, but he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back down.
"No, don't go," he said, and both of them saw the unintentional double meaning. "I mean . . ." he looked down a little embarrassed, ". . . stay with me right now. Just sit here with me."
"Okay," she said relaxing against him again. She leaned into him, resting her head next to his. "Here is good."
She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as she just lay there with him, neither of them speaking or making a sound. She could smell the soap on his neck and the shampoo from his hair. She could hear the sound of his heart beating steadily in his chest. She could sense his slightest movement. It was like she was a part of him, and he was of her. And as she laid there, her arms resting on his draped around her waist, she wondered how much it would hurt that next day to lose that piece of herself.
"Will we ever do this again?" she asked him, her voice almost a whisper.
"What do you mean?" he looked down at her, his features soft and his voice following hers as if reluctant to break the silence.
"After I leave," she explained, "will I ever get a chance to just sit here with you, listening to you breathe? Will you ever hold me like you're doing now?"
"I hope so," he said resting back again, his eyes focusing on nothing at all.
And then there was nothing else to say. She just lay there in his arms, trying to enjoy what she thought would be one of their last beautiful moments together. They stayed there together, talking some but mostly just comfortably silent, for almost two hours. By the time they dragged themselves off that couch, they only had about ten minutes to get back to the coffeehouse. After a quick hug and goodbye from Jay, they were on their way.
"So," Jess said, stopping just before they reached their destination, "are you sure you want me to come in with you?"
"I said I did," she smiled at his apprehension. "Don't worry, my mom isn't that scary. Only about as scary as me, but depending on your point of view, I guess that could go both ways."
"You're not scary," Jess said kissing her softly and briefly on the mouth. "You may be incredibly insane, but not all insane people are scary."
"Good," she said smiling and taking his hand. "Let's go."
"Rory!" Lorelai called as they entered, drawing annoyed looks from the other patrons. "What?" she asked no one in particular and they all turned back to their regularly scheduled lives.
"Hey mom," Rory smiled, kissing her mother on the cheek as she and Jess joined the bubbly woman. "This is Jess."
"Hey Jess," Lorelai said energetically, holding out a hand that he promptly shook. "So you're the guy who's been charming by beautifully innocent daughter in my absence."
"Yes ma'am," he replied as they all sat down. "That would be me."
"Do you do drugs?" Lorelai asked a little bluntly, though her voice was still eerily light.
"Nope," he replied, not taking the least bit offense.
"Drink?"
"Not often."
"Ever with my daughter?"
"One beer at a party, but she had water."
"Who drove her home?"
"John."
"You smoke?"
"Cigarettes."
There was a pause in the conversation as Lorelai thought about this. "Well at least you're honest," she said nodding her head. "Let me just tell you that if you ever hurt my daughter, I would make you bleed profusely from several parts of your body. That having been said, would you like to join us for lunch?"
"Sure," he replied, seemingly unscathed by the warning but looking over at Rory to make sure it was okay for him to stay.
She nodded minutely, smiling at the conversation she had just witnessed. Only Lorelai would give her stamp of approval to a guy who just said straight to her face that he smokes cigarettes and sometimes drinks. And only he would admit that sort of thing to his girlfriend's mother. Too strange.
After two hours, several cups of coffee, and many more dirty looks from the other customers, Lorelai, Rory, and Jess exited the coffeehouse.
"Well, Jess," Lorelai said smiling, "it was nice meeting you, but I think I'm going to steal my daughter for some quality mother-daughter time."
"Bye Jess," Rory said smiling though her eyes were a little sad. "I'll meet up with you later?"
"Wouldn't miss it," he said brushing his lips over hers for but a moment before nodding a goodbye to Lorelai and heading off in the opposite direction.
Rory watched him go, the image of his back as he walked away giving her an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, she turned back to her mother.
"So that was Jess," the elder Gilmore said.
"That was Jess," Rory answered.
"He actually told me about that beer," Lorelai said with a note of respect.
"You already knew," Rory said as they headed towards the apartment. "I told you about it on the phone last week."
"I know," she said smiling a little. "I was just seeing if he would actually tell me."
"And he did," Rory smiled. Her Jess had passed the test.
"He did," Lorelai echoed. "I guess I don't get to kill him then."
"Maybe later," Rory assured her.
"Maybe." The two Gilmores smiled at each other.
Five hours later, Rory knocked on Jess's bedroom window, waiting there patiently for him to unlatch it and let her in. Smiling out at her, he offered her his hand and she slid into the room.
"Is your mom home?" she asked immediately.
"Nope," he replied. "She's probably staying over at her boyfriend's house tonight so you don't have to worry about her coming in and harassing you again." He looked slightly uncomfortable at the thought and she eased his mind by taking his hand in hers and giving it a gently squeeze.
"So what did you think of my mom?" she asked him as they went to sit on his bed.
"Amazing in comparison," he replied. "She really needs to cut down on her caffeine intake, but otherwise she seemed cool."
"Never tell her that," Rory warned him. "I mean about the caffeine. She might have to start hating you."
"She doesn't already?" he asked almost surprised.
"You passed the test," she assured him. "And she already knew about the beer. She just wanted to see if you'd tell her."
"Huh," he said. "I guess it's a good thing I told her. Nice to know."
"So," she said smiling, "what did you do while I was with my mom?"
"Did a little reading in the park, a little shopping," he replied nonchalantly. "Nothing much."
"You went shopping?" she asked giving him a sideways glance. "After shopping with me for hours? What'd you get?"
"I'll show you later," he promised standing up. "Right now, I want to show you someplace."
Rory smiled, chewing a little on her bottom lip. "I love when you say that," she said taking the hand he offered her.
"Come on," he said climbing out his window, grabbing the packed duffel bag sitting underneath it, "we have to hurry."
"Okay," she followed him, her eyes flashing.
A subway ride and twenty minutes later, they were walking through a forest. Rory didn't know where they were going or what was going on, but she trusted Jess enough to follow him. The sun was balancing just above the horizon, but with the dense summer foliage, the forest was getting pretty dark. She was just about to ask how much further when the trees dropped off around them and her breath caught in her chest.
They were standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking a valley of lights and sounds. A gentle breeze blew past them, stirring the hair around Rory's face as she stared mesmerized over the view. She turned to Jess, only to see that he'd laid out a blanket to sit on and a thermos of hot coffee for them. She smiled, not really understanding.
"What are we doing here, Jess?" she asked, her voice soft and excited.
"It's your last night in town," he said sitting and motioning for her to as well, "and you've never seen a New York sunset."
Her smile widened to a point where she didn't think possible. She sat down, leaning against him, as the light show began. When the sun hit the horizon, blazing above the city, streaks of red and orange shot through the sky. As it slowly descended into darkness, the red and orange were joined by pink, violet, and a deep cerulean blue. Rory watched the colors dance on the clouds, fighting for dominance as their source diminished to the inevitable veil of night. Finally, the sky settled into a deep ebony, countless stars blinking into view as if just waking up.
Rory leaned back into Jess's arms, her eyes transfixed on the stars and the bright white moon rising in the sky. It was different stargazing up there, where the city lights couldn't diminish their beauty. Up there, she felt as if she was closer to them, closer to heaven itself. She felt like she could almost stay there, trapped in a dream, for the rest of her life. Sighing contently, she looked up at her boyfriend.
"Thank you," she whispered as if unwilling to break the quiet. She leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "It was beautiful."
"You're beautiful," he said just as softly. "That was just a sunset."
"You're too good to me, you know that?" she said, her face serious. "I have no idea what I'm going to do without you."
"You'll live," he assured her. "You're strong, Rory Gilmore. Even if you don't see it." He paused for a moment, reaching into his duffel. "I wanted to give you something," he told her slowly. "Something to remember me by."
"What?" she asked turning around to face him. "You don't have to do that. I don't need anything to remind me of you."
"It's nothing much so don't get your hopes up," he said looking down. "I just thought you'd like it."
He pulled a medium-sized white box out from behind his back and laid it down in her lap. She just looked at it a moment before lifting the lid. Inside was a small book wrapped in crêpe paper. On the cover was a picture of a little girl standing in a giant archway looking out at a garden maze at night, a shooting star breaking through the multitude of stationary stars in the midnight sky.
She opened to the first gilded-edged page and found that each was lined but blank, except for a sentence or two written in pen at the top. Jess had written on every page one famous quote or personal thought or anecdote from their time together that he never wanted to forget. She flipped to a random page and read the dedication: 'I will never forget the sight of you sleeping out on your fire escape, your hair framing your face and your features soft. My angel of hope.'
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes as she chewed at her lip. "It's beautiful," she told him. "It's the most beautiful gift I've ever gotten. Thank you."
"I just wanted to let you know how much I'm going to miss you and how much these last few weeks have meant to me," he said.
He leaned down and kissed her, soft and sweet. A tear rolling down her cheek, she leaned into him. She had cried so much that day and the weeks before that she didn't know how she had any of the liquid left in her, but these tears were different. This time, she was crying because she knew how much she was losing, but also that she wasn't losing anything. She would hold his every touch, every laugh, every smile in her heart and in this little book. She would fill its pages with thoughts and memories of him, and he would stay there forever, suspended in a state of perfection.
Pulling away finally, she smiled up into his eyes, vowing to never forget those chocolate eyes as long as she lived. After a long moment, she sat up. "I should be getting home," she sighed reluctantly. "Mom's still a little freaked about me getting mugged the other night so I don't want to worry her."
"Let's go then," he said.
They stood up and gathered the blanket and thermos. Then, hand in hand, he led her through the woods and back to the apartment, promising to see her the next morning before she left.