3 years later

There is a time in everyone's life where you contemplate the paths you have chosen. The "what if" section; What if I hadn't gone to Chilton? What if I had gone to Harvard instead of Yale? What if mom would have married dad? A plane ride is just a good a place as any for this internal dialog. You have a good six hours of staring into blank space trying to come to terms with the cause and effect in your life.

I wish I could turn back the clock, like how Hermione has that little golden necklace that allows her to fix other's mistakes. I have a hard time pinpointing the exact moment I would change though. I guess I would start with Jess and work my way forward. So no Jess, no abandonment, no questioning what I really meant to him when my feelings were so transparent. Then I would move on to Dean part 3, that was the real catalyst to Rory's downward spiral. That is when mom and I stopped talking, our relationship changed after that.

The announcement is made that the plane will be landing, it shakes me from my reverie. I remind myself that dwelling on the past is not going to move me forward. It has been three years since I have been back to the states, three years since I walked out of the pub, away from my friends and my mom. Grandma and Grandpa come to visit every Christmas and during the summers, but it's not the same.

A lot has changed in those three years. I went back to school just like Grandpa and Trix recommended- just not at Oxford. The London School of Economics was a great stepping stone into the world of finance. Just last year I graduated with a degree in business management and after discussing with Grandpa I would take over Gilmore Insurance Group when he was set to retire. The last year has been spent developing an international branch, making contacts, and finding employees. Grandpa's frequent trips over the years sparked the conversation of who would take over once he passed on. Obviously mom was not going to want to deal with it- things were just as strained as they were three years ago. Being the only member of the family that didn't have a plan it just made sense for me to go into the family business.

I look out my window and see New York City's lights welcoming me back. At least I hope it is a welcome, it could be a warning. The flashing city lights telling me to "turn back now!" I sigh and close the window shade, much to the chagrin of the older lady sitting across the aisle.

The plane parks, and doors open and suddenly there is a rush of people standing and trying to all disembark at the same time. I sit and wait for the pandemonium to dissipate. Once there is a lul I stand and get my carry on from the overhead and leave the safety of the plane. I have never been one for tight spaces, but at least on the plane there was a level of safety, nothing unknown lurking. Reaching into my bag I grab my iphone, and power it on. 7 missed calls, 23 emails and a barrage of texts all updating me to the current affairs of how I left things at the office.

Sighing I lock my phone, there is nothing that can't wait until I get to a hotel. Making my way through JFK I noticed the lights and decorations first. My first Christmas home in three years, I should be excited. I should be happy to be back and looking forward to all the old traditions that were once so near and dear to my heart. My Grandma's apple tarts! I have dreamed about those apple tarts! But nothing comes as I stop and take in the giant Christmas tree in front of me. Sighing I start rolling my bag down to customs, where they welcome me home and then to baggage claim.

There is a rambunctious family near the front of the carousel. All chattering about their holiday. How they are so excited to be home, the kids begging to have friends over during the week and the parents wrapped up in the holiday spirit promising play dates and hot cocoa. It looks like something from a Christmas movie, and suddenly I want to turn around and book a plane ticket back to my bubble. I have no family here, even Paris stopped calling once she found out how much the international calls were. There is no welcome party here and I am instantly brought back to my trip with Grandma to Europe, where mom waited at baggage claim with a slightly inappropriate sign welcoming us back.

The carousel starts and I grab my suitcases, maneuvering them to the cab line- that is when I hear it.

"RORY!"

I spin around startled at the volume and sheer exuberance of whoever has recognized me, and that is when I see them. A blonde haired woman with a man juggling a stroller and an abundance of luggage that would make traveling with Emily Gilmore look like a mere shopping trip. Before I know it I am swept up in a hug and squeezed and shaken. There are words being said but I can't comprehend her, she is talking a mile a minute. Complementing my new haircut- she says I am too skinny and that we need to go to lunch.

"Honor?"