She stares at herself in the mirror, really taking a good look at herself for the first time in a long time. The last image of herself in her mind is one of a ruined woman, a redfaced, wild-haired child, who had fallen so deep in her love for a man that she had let it control her and drive her to desire more than he could give her. A picture of a woman who had little more hope for a blissful future than Hester Prynne. It was in response to this realization that she had given thanks every day to God or Mother Nature or Zeus or fate or whoever determined the course of her life that she had not conceived a child that night with Christopher. That was the only reason she had felt no urge to go out and emblaze the letter A on her forehead, that and the fact that she and Luke had never actually married, though some might say they had set up the pretenses of an old married could early on in their relationship.
Old is right. The lines on her face, deeper than before, do little to assure her that the past few months have improved her complexion. Every time she opens the phonebook at work, her fingers skip hastily past the hair salon section for fear that she might actually realize that feigned ignorance will not rid her head of the grey that has come in. Though she remembers quite well the other Star Hollow Middle School mothers, most more than 10 years older than herself, discussing how their troublesome children had aged their bodies. Yet, Rory had never affected her in that way, not even Rory's break from the reality and her pre-destined future had adjusted Lorelai's looks past her true years. No, it was only this, only her own slip of loyalty to herself and what her bond to the man next door had meant to her that had caused this rapid change to the woman echoed back in the shining glass.
As she reaches up to run her fingers over her cheek, making sure that the reflection in front of her truly is her own, she's startled by a noise in the background. She reaches out and opens the bathroom door a crack, leaning back to hear outside a little better. But there is no sound. What had disturbed her dissection of her own image might have been nothing more than her own brain wishing she had never looked in the mirror in the first place.
But no, it comes again. Her heart beating rapidly, she takes one last glance at the mirror before sighing in disappointment and turning out the bathroom light. She steps softly, padding on the carpet towards the cracked door separating the interior of his room from her own. Reaching it, her fingers slide down the white wood, as if feeling him through the door, trying to sense the warmth, like one trying to escape a burning building and checking the exit to feel for fire on the opposite side. Again she hears him, not like last night, not the soft sorrowful sounds of a man hiding his tears. No, it is worse than that, she can hear his heavy breathing, his fear, his trembling seeping through the hushed moans.
Within an instant she has thrown the door open, but subconsciously remembers to catch it with her other hand to not alarm him with the crash of the door hitting the wall. Her feet carry her swiftly to his bedside and she is promptly on the bed at his side, her body nestled against his, her hand rubbing his arm. "Luke. Luke wake up. Hun, please wake up," she begs, whispering in his ear, her lips not a centimeter away from their target.
In a split second his arms wrap around her, pulling her flush against his body, soothing himself with the soft comfort that her body provides. He buries his face in her shoulder using her as a shield from the outside world and those that seek to destroy him in the night. He hardly knows what is happening as he struggles to breathe, the memory of his garish nightmare so deep within his head. His father had been there. His mother. His sister. Jess. Lorelai. They had all been there, ghosts drifting in the distance but he had been knowledgeable of their presence. But they hadn't come to him. None of them. They had all left, floating away to their own demise until all he could see in the light in front of him was Gabriel, small and helpless and alone, not unlike himself.
Somewhere within in his subconscious he senses her. Though she had come in a few minutes ago and let him wrap himself around her, clinging to her with everything in him, he is only just now aware of her presence. She is there as if she had never left, as if here and now they are still as they had once been in the plaid sheets of his bed above the diner in the days after Rory's disappearance from their lives. But at the time, it had been him comforting her, convincing her to let go, to release what is inside, to ease her fears.
He wonders for a moment, what if they hadn't been engaged at the time, what if they hadn't been lovers, would he have done the same? Would he have held her close and dried her tears if he hadn't known her in the biblical sense? And he truly believes it was more than that, it was more than their commitment to each other that brought him to hold her close late into the night and in the light of the morning. Nonetheless, he's not quite sure why this is true. With this new insight into himself, his eyes slowly close and he drifts back into dreamland.
In the morning, she's awakened with the sense that something is different. Not wrong. Not incorrect. Just different. As she slowly opens hers eyes, feeling her head laying against his cool forehead and his face buried in her neck, all she can see is him. Luke. His strong tanned shoulders that once were all that kept her from falling apart and losing herself to the self-deprecation that had come with Rory's move to Hartford. They were the same shoulders that had pushed her away when all that she desired in life was to be close to him, to feel him, to be accepted as his soulmate and the future stepmother of his daughter. She remembers the look in his eyes whenever the subject of April had come up: distant, distrusting, unfeeling.
Before she knows it, she's pulled her arms away from him. In fact her whole body has arched away from him in a subliminal attempt to get away from him.
Her eyes drift over him one last time taking in his sleeping, docile form. His long eyelashes that flutter on his skin. The scruff of his beard, longer than usual, but still very attractive to her. The slight curve, almost a smile, on his pale lips, so innocent and gentle that she almost leans in to touch her lips to his.
Instead she pulls back and gets out of bed, carefully so as not to wake him. She adjusts her clothes, still remembering that wondrous feeling of his arms holding her tight. Yet she knows the embrace was not loving, but due to the dreadful images that taunted him in his dreams. And again she remembers that her purpose here is not to reestablish their commitment to each other, but to be the person he can rely on, be the solace in the darkness of the wake of his sister's death. Though it would be nice if both were to occur, she knows that it will take more than her presence to mend the shreds that were left following her infidelity.
After another two hours, both are finally awake and ready to go to TJ's funeral. "I thought you were almost out the door," Luke grumps, leaning his shoulder against the doorway between their rooms. The sight of her running around the room switching jewelry and touching up her make up in the last moments before they walk out the door is a familiar one to him. It's a vision he had almost forgotten in the months since their breakup and now that he's confronted with it again he realizes how much he missed it. Something about the rush to be ready on time, yet failing miserably because she wanted to look just perfect for their outing or, more importantly, for him, was just so Lorelai. It amazes him that it's this ordinary scene that makes his heart ache more than the glimpse of the gazebo where they had celebrated their engagement or the sight of the TV that he had bought for her to convince her to spend the night more often.
She walks past him, giving him a quick roll of her eyes as she glances at him. "I'm ready. Jeez, you'd think that the San Andreas Fault was right here to open up if I wasn't ready on time," she crabs as she walks out the door of his room, leaving sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor in her wake. He can only shake his head, astounded by her lax attachment to timeliness.
They quickly get in the car, Lorelai reaching in her backseat for the directions and shoving them into Luke's hands. "Navigate, Senor Columbus," she directs as she turns on the car.
Indeed, whoever handed her the directions from the hotel to the funeral home had been right on because within moments Lorelai is pulling into the parking lot of the building labeled Urban-Amigone Funeral Home. The parking lot is quite full because apparently most attendees are much more punctual than Lorelai Gilmore. But with the few stragglers still heading towards the door and the cars pulling up next to them, they are assured that they will not be interrupting the service in progress.
She gets out and walks in front of the jeep and waits for him to meander his way over to her. He's slightly more ragged than he was in back in his hotel room but she imagines that this is not the worst image she's going to have of him today or the next few days. Like a dutiful companion, she fixes the mussed collar of his shirt, letting her fingers linger a moment on his shoulder, if only to assure him of her presence through the duration. With a nod from him that he's aware of what's happening, she wraps her hand around his elbow and leads him into the building.
Thankfully for both, Jess notices them right away, probably not wanting to be forced to converse with his peculiar step-father's family. He waves Luke and Lorelai over to where he has saved two seats besides him. Luke glances at Lorelai for only a moment to wonder if he, as Liz's brother, should go sit with TJ's family, but she motions with her chin towards Jess and he follows her lead.
The service is solemn, almost the antithesis of the essence that was TJ. But it is, as funerals always are, what the family wanted. Between the three closest to Liz Matthews nee Danes, none seeks to glance at another throughout the ceremony, each wondering why a man who had a minstrel at his wedding would have such a dry funeral. It's almost as if the service was meant so that the family could grieve for the man they wished TJ had been rather than the person that he was.
During the successive drive to the cemetery, Lorelai notices that Luke is still somber, never actually having come out of his stupor since sitting down next to his nephew. The only thing that seems to bring Luke out of this daze is the woman from the day before, whom Lorelai has learned is TJ's cousin Dawn Devers, placing Gabriel in Luke's arms again today, claiming that TJ's parents are too shaken at this point to care for the infant. At this point, instead of the dreary pastor, Mike Matthews, takes over the ritual. As he begins to go off for some time about the wonder that was TJ, she glances over at Luke, his gaze settled on his nephew. The smile that she remembers him presenting Gabriel the day before is replaced by a grave look but still gentle eyes. She lightly squeezes his elbow again, as if comforting him for the loss of his brother-in-law, and she hopes that he takes it as her way of telling him that it's okay to concentrate on his nephew rather than the service.
As she leads him over to meet up with Jess afterwards, they are confronted with all of TJ's family that she's become familiar with in the past two days. His slightly off kilter brother, who owns a furniture store in Nutley. His dull parents who could barely gather enough kindness to give their son the funeral he deserved. His cousin Dawn, the woman who had taken care of Gabriel the past few days and had grown up next door to the Matthews'. And his Uncle Jarvis, his mother's brother, who seemed to have his goal set on convincing others of his unlikely mob connections. All of them stand in front of Luke and Lorelai now, like the Berlin Wall, blocking their exit to either Jess or the jeep and the freedom that comes with it.
A man standing behind the fives Matthews' suddenly speaks up. "You are Mr. and Mrs. Luke Danes?" the man asks, shocking both Luke and Lorelai with the idea that many have assumed that they are married. Lorelai can remember just a year ago when she and Luke had been cohabitating in the living room of her house during the renovation. At the time she had often heard Babette or Ms. Patty comment that it seemed they already had gotten married. They had both just felt so safe, so secure in their relationship, it seemed all so perfect, so much that part of Lorelai almost ached for the those times even with her separation from Rory at the time.
"I'm Luke Danes," Luke finally responds, not knowing how to explain Lorelai's presence while also clarifying that he's not actually with Lorelai. In response, she can feel her face grow hot and stares down intently at her hands to keep the Matthews' from seeing the flame of her cheeks. She is sure that they are all instantly aware of the fact that Luke did not introduce her as anything, much less his wife. Really, he shouldn't introduce her with that title, it's not true, and it may never come true despite the fact that she may yearn for that for the rest of her life.
She drifts from her thoughts to the conversation going on around her, finally realizing that the discussion has become quite heated. Luke was never one to keep his cool in times of stress, she knows him that much. "Well he's my nephew! You're not taking him away from me! He's all I have left. He belongs with me!" Luke exclaims, his hand now rubbing Gabriel's back as the boy has now been shifted to his shoulder. Lorelai's eyes are trained on Luke's hand, watching the methodic tender way that Luke is taking care of his young nephew, trying to soothe the boy in the presence of his angry family. Her minds flashes for a moment back to a scene that she can scarcely remember when it happened, Luke in her kitchen, Luke kissing her goodbye, Luke talking to her stomach followed by placing her own hands over her abdomen, knowing that she had everything she ever wanted. Luke and her twins.
And now it comes to her. The twins. That had only been her dream. It wasn't real. "Luke, we don't even have a car seat," she hears herself mumble, wondering when a part of her had returned to the conversation. Luke stares at her with cold fury, his eyes wild and remote as if he is physically having the conversation but mentally he's in a different time and place when his life was peaceful and settled.
Though she knows this, when he responds, she just can't let him take her down with him. "Stay out of this Lorelai!" he shouts at her and her breath catches in her throat. It was like his dark day of 2004 all over again and the only thing she can think to do is walk away, give him a chance to figure things out. It's what she had done then, what's to say it won't work this time. So she gathers her black coat, the same one she had been wearing that night two years ago, tight against her and walks away, tears threatening the corners of her eyes.
The voices around him seem to gather and become incensed like the crowd circling the soldiers just prior to the Boston Massacre. This time instead of guns going off, little sparks are lighting in his brain. So much at once.
There's the beautiful endearing boy laying against his chest, his little fingers grasping his shirt, the little one feeling safe and secure in his uncle's arms. Luke can still hear Lorelai's words telling him about the moment that Rory was first put in her arms and only now can he truly begin to understand. He can feel it in his heart. He can feel it in his need to hold his nephew close. He can feel it in the times that he spends just staring at the small boy. He loves Gabriel, through and through, heart and soul, jams hands included. His nephew had him the moment he was placed in Luke's waiting arms just a few moments after his entrance into the world and first opened his baby blue eyes and took in the sight of his enchanted uncle.
Eventually Luke finishes his discussion with the lawyers and grudgingly hands Gabriel over to Dawn only because, as Lorelai pointed out, there's no car seat in the jeep. After repeating over and over that he will be stopping by to see his nephew before he leaves town, the Matthews family and Matthews lawyer finally walk away. He watches them disappear into the distance and for second his heart skips a beat, wondering if this is possibly the last image he'll ever have of his nephew who he adores. And instantly images flash through his mind, the last memory of his mother: pale and sickly in her hospital bed, the last vision of his father: worn out, eyes closed to the world in his bed at home, the last memory of Liz: holding Gabriel in her arms before she and TJ left for the Renaissance Faire, whispering she can hope for nothing more than for Gabriel to be just like his uncle.
And again his heart feels empty and as he looks around, he can finally see how alone he truly is. Most of the funeral attendees have gone home or are in the process of walking away. The cemetery workers are folding up chairs that had been used by TJ's parents and other elderly guests during the service. For a moment, as the men carry the chairs away, there's nothing but Luke and the casket and the cool breeze blowing over the frozen earth.
In the distance his eyes catch a figure, like finding Waldo in those semi-impossible books. His gaze is drawn to her and he's immobile. From this great a distance, he can see her despondent expression, her slouched posture and again a picture flashes through his mind. Her pleading eyes, brimming with tears. Her cold fingers, resting on his own. Her thin form, shaped in blue. And he had let her go. He had lost her. It was as if his inability to comprehend things in an instant was always the reason he ended up alone without her, without Rachel, without family.
Finally, he strolls over to her. She's leaning against the driver's door of the jeep. In this moment, he can almost see her as the young teenager he had never known: wild and untamed, unruly and uncontrollable, with a natural way about her as if freedom was the way she wanted to live her life. He could envision her long unmanageable curls that ran down her back, her fingers wrapped around a cigarette, not because it's the cool thing to do or because Joe Camel was her role model, but because her mother would have hated it so much. She stood strong against everything: her parents trying to run her life, her boyfriend trying to force her hand in marriage, her teachers trying to convince her to give up her child and go on to college. She had been an impenetrable force.
She still is. The only moments he can ever remember seeing her true vulnerability was when she was worried about losing him. And he wonders why he never told her it was the one thing she never had to consider for even a moment, at least until she broke his trust in her.
"Why did you ask me? Why did you ask me to come?" she asks of him, hoping that he's seeing her questions as brave rather than anxious. She watches him literally digest her words, his mouth open to them, his throat swallowing them, his stomach aching with them. "Did you ask me because I was there? Because you just wanted someone? Anyone? Or did you ask me because I was me?"
He's afraid at first of how to respond. With her finally standing before him, just the two of them in this light of day, it's almost as if they can pretend the past year away and go back to the way things once were. Their problems are back in Stars Hollow and if they just stay here, just the two of them, in the snow, under the sun of the afternoon, maybe that's the only way they can ever truly be together. "I think at first it was because I just needed someone," he admits, watching her face fall, as if she was expecting him to immediately insist that he needed her and lift her off her feet. "But, now, Lorelai… I don't know. I think… I think I'm glad it's you."
But she doesn't smile. Her eyes brighten from a navy to the color of a swimming pool on a hot summer day. But she doesn't smile.
Instead she slowly takes a deep breath in and lets it out. "So what did Johnnie Cochran have to say?" she finally asks, and both know that the moment is over. She's still the woman who loved him so much she cheated on him when she thought she had already lost him. He's still the man who loved her so long and so much that he thought once he had her he stood no chance of losing her until he realized he had already lost her.
But yet, though the moment is over, both know that things will never really be over between them.
"He said that Liz and TJ Matthews requested that Luke and Lorelai Danes be the guardians of one Gabriel Lucas Matthews in the case of their untimely deaths."