December 3rd

"Hey, Boss-Man. You've got somebody out here looking for you." Larry leaned well into the doorway to the kitchen, grinning widely.

"Who is it?" Luke asked distractedly, trying to keep track of the multiple items he was prepping.

"If you'd look at that antique strapped to your wrist, I bet you could figure it out."

"Oh, it's Rory?" Luke didn't need to look at a clock. This time in the afternoon, it would be Rory.

"Yeah, and she seems pretty serious. Didn't even want a doughnut. You want me to take over back here so you can come talk to her?"

Luke glanced around the work area, sighing internally at the thought of trying to explain to Larry where he was in the preparation process. Larry was a great guy in many ways and a dependable worker, but not always the sharpest knife in the drawer.

"No, you know what? Just tell her to come back here."

"Really?" If possible, Larry's smile went even wider. "Whatever you say."

It wasn't long before Luke heard Rory's timid voice from the other side of the threshold, where she had precisely come to a halt. "This is really OK?"

He waved her in, still concentrating on his chores.

"Wow." She turned around slowly. "Somehow I always thought it'd be…bigger."

"It's big enough," he said, grateful that her mother wasn't along to snicker at the comments. "So what's going on?"

"I thought maybe you could help me figure something out."

"Sure. You want to work some while we talk?"

"You want me to help you?"

"You bet." He stopped for a moment and gave her a stern look. "What's the first thing you need to do?"

"Wash my hands!"

"Go for it." He nodded towards the sink.

By the time she was sanitized he had some ingredients lined up on the table. "I'm using up the last of the apples I was able to get from the orchard, making them into a crisp. I'm going to have you do the topping for it."

"How do I do that?"

"Here's the recipe." He pointed to the card he'd placed on the table, then dumped a couple of sticks of butter into a bowl. "Add these ingredients on top of the butter. Then you're going to take this –" he handed her a utensil –"and use it to crumble it all up."

She gingerly took the weird-looking thing from him. "This looks like something that Klingon guy would use on Star Trek. You're sure this is safe?"

"I wouldn't recommend putting your fingers underneath it, but yeah, it's safe. It's called a pastry blender, by the way. And here's how you use it." He demonstrated, rocking the blades down against the tabletop. "Put in all of the dry ingredients on top of the butter, and then cut the pastry blender through it."

"Cool," Rory decided.

Luke watched her out of the corner of his eye as she methodically read through the recipe. "There's oatmeal in here?" she suddenly asked.

"Yep." Luke tapped the top of the tubular cardboard container he'd placed before her.

"Huh," she replied, and then resumed her perusal. Satisfied she knew what she was doing, she began to carefully measure out the first ingredient.

Luke continued to casually monitor her until he was sure she'd found her cooking legs. "So what's your problem?"

"Problem?" she asked absentmindedly, filling up a cup with oatmeal.

"You said you needed help figuring something out."

"Oh, right!" She leveled off the top of the cup with a knife, just the way Luke had taught her during a pie-crust session. "Well, Christmas is coming soon…"

"I'd heard the rumor."

She took focus away from her task long enough to send him a playful glare. "And I'm trying to decide what I could give as gifts this year. I thought if maybe there was something I could make, then maybe you'd help me with it."

"I don't see why not. What did you have in mind?"

"That's the problem. I don't know what I could do."

"All right, let's look at it another way then. Who do you want to give these gifts to?"

She carefully leveled off a tablespoon of cinnamon and sighed. "Well, Grandma and Grandpa, to start with."

"OK." Luke tried to not let his new knowledge of the elder Gilmore's wealth intimidate him, or worry what they might think about homemade gifts. Surely the fact that their granddaughter had made them would elevate them in their eyes, right? "What do you think your grandpa might like? What does he like to do?"

"Read," Rory said promptly.

"Seems like the obvious answer for him would be bookends, then."

Rory's face lit up. "Is that something we could make?"

"Absolutely." Luke stopped for a minute, trying to mentally inventory the bookcase upstairs in his apartment. "I might still have a book of simple woodworking patterns. Once we get done here in the kitchen, let's go up and check. And if not, I bet you could find some at the library."

She was nodding eagerly. "I could go to the library."

"If we need you to." Luke greased an industrial-sized baking pan, ready to dump the sliced apples into it. "What about for your grandma?"

"I don't know," Rory said, appearing stumped again. "I mean, she already has everything."

Luke tried to picture a woman who would be the equal of Richard Gilmore. "She probably has a lot of jewelry, right?"

"Oh, yeah."

"How about some sort of jewelry holder?"

Rory tilted her head, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how about if we…" He tried to illustrate by using his hands, but he could see at once that wasn't going to work. He flipped the recipe card over, grabbed the pencil he'd stashed behind his ear, and began to draw a simple diagram. "We could build sort of a little shelf, and then put in some small hooks along the bottom. She could hang necklaces from the hooks, and she could lay bracelets or watches on the top, or even put small pictures there, or any of those hundreds of other little doodads ladies always seem to have cluttering up the place."

"I think that's a great idea." Rory was studying his clear drawing in fascination.

"That would give me a chance to teach you how to miter corners."

"What's that mean?" Rory wrinkled up her nose upon hearing the strange word.

Luke moved over to the counter and ran his hand over the wooden edging, then pointed to the way the pieces joined together in the corner. "It means that you need to cut the two pieces at the correct angle, so they'll match up right."

"That sounds hard."

"It can be tricky," Luke agreed. "Sometimes it helps me if I sketch out what I'm trying to do first, and even then it usually takes a couple of wrong cuts before I get the hang of it."

"What happened to 'measure twice, cut once?'" she teased him.

"When you're mitering corners, all bets are off."

She chuckled. "Yeah, I think Grandma would like that. Do you think Mom would too?"

"As much jewelry as she has? You could probably make her a dozen."

"OK. Bookends and two jewelry things." She began to slice through everything she'd put in the big bowl with the pastry blender. "Hey, this is fun!" she announced, as the butter and the dry ingredients began to form a loose crumble.

"Keep turning it," Luke advised her, showing her how to twist her wrist and the bowl at the same time. "So who else is on the list?"

"Sookie."

Luke nodded, thinking. "I remember making a really easy recipe card holder when I was probably even younger than you are. Seems like that might be a good gift for a cook."

Rory was beaming again. "Yeah, that sounds perfect!"

"And you could paint it, if you wanted, to match her kitchen , or in her favorite color."

"Yes! What about the other things? Would we paint them too?"

Luke shrugged. "Or stain the wood. That's up to you. Why don't we plan a trip to the lumberyard and the hardware store and pick everything out?"

"Sure, but we'll have to go soon."

"We can, but what's the rush?"

"I'll have to have the presents done for my grandparents by next week. Next Wednesday."

"You're kidding. Why?"

Rory tapped the pastry blender along the edge of the bowl, knocking off some of the buttery clumps clinging to the blades. "Because we have Christmas with them before they go away on vacation."

Luke stopped everything he was doing and turned to look at her. "They don't stay home for Christmas?"

"Nope. They give a big, fancy party before they go and invite lots of their friends to it, and Mom and I have to get all dressed up and go to it too, and while we're there, we do presents. Then they go someplace warm and they don't come back for like a month."

Luke couldn't imagine not being in Connecticut with snow and cold for the holidays. He briefly wondered if the Gilmore's travel habit had been established before or after their daughter had taken their granddaughter and left home. Shaking off his musings, he got back to work. "We'll go get our supplies as soon as we can, then. Check with your mom about when you're free."

"OK."

He waited a minute to see if she'd say anything else, and when she didn't, he held an inner debate about whether or not to prompt her.

"So…" He paused uncomfortably. "Anybody else?" Then he waited in agony, primed for her to say 'Oh, my dad!' and ready to kick himself for reminding her. The last thing he wanted to do was guide her hands while she made a gift for the deadbeat father who certainly didn't deserve to get one.

She looked down into the bowl, thoughtfully considering. "No, I think that's it."

"Oh, OK then," he said, unable to mask the relief he felt.

She grinned impishly at him. "Well, there might be someone else on my list, but I can't talk about that!"

Luke came over beside her, to help guide her in dumping the contents of her bowl over his apples. "Tell you what, if you talk to the big guy at the North Pole, you could mention I wouldn't turn down a Shopsmith."

"What's that?"

"A very elaborate woodworking machine that probably costs more than the car your mother drives."

Rory laughed a little bit. "I doubt Santa could get that down the chimney."

"Probably not."

They finished spreading the mixture over the pan and Luke slid it into the oven. He looked around the kitchen swiftly, calculating how much time he could take away from his diner duties. "Do you have a couple of minutes to come upstairs and look for that pattern book?"

Rory turned his hand so she could see his wristwatch. "Yeah, a couple, probably. I could call Mom, make sure it's OK if I stay here a little bit longer."

"Then let's go." He put his hand on her head, guiding her out of the kitchen and into the other part of his life.

December 6th

"It's too early to get a tree," Luke said, for probably the fifteenth time since they'd begun strolling through the Christmas tree lot.

Unlike his previous fourteen statements, this time Lorelai had a reply, although her voice sounded the way it did when she was striving to remain civil to Taylor. "No, it's not. I have the evening off, you're available, and the weather's decent. It's the perfect time to pick out a tree."

He shook his head. "But it's just going to dry out. Wait until next week, at least."

Lorelai stepped ahead of him and then turned, putting them face-to-face, and out of Rory's line of sight. "Look, I don't know why Mr. Grumpy has shown up today, but can he please go away?" She kept her voice low. "Rory's been looking forward to this since last Christmas, so can we all manage to be on the same page here?"

Luke didn't respond immediately, mainly because the woman all up in his face was just so damn cute. She was wearing a white knitted cap which forced her curls to flounce out from underneath it. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and her eyes sparkled. Granted, they were currently glittering due to her annoyance with him, but they were still a spectacular sight.

"Sure," he finally said, forcing himself to stop staring at her.

"Good." She turned on her heel and started to march off, to catch up with Rory.

"As long as you don't mind sweeping up pine needles for the next three weeks," he couldn't stop himself from adding.

"Arrgh!" Ahead of him, her shoulders bowed in frustration for a moment. Then she spun around, raising a menacing fist towards him. "Luke, I swear, if you don't stop this…"

He hurried to catch up with her, putting a soothing arm around her waist when he did. "Sorry," he offered. "I'll try to do better."

She looked at him appraisingly and gave him a light punch on his arm. "What's with you today, anyway? If you don't want to be here with us –"

"No, no, that's not it," he hastened to assure her. "I think…" He stopped, chuckling as it hit him. "I think I might have been channeling my dad a bit. Seems like I remember some very similar conversations with him while walking around, looking for that perfect tree." He smiled, not wanting her to think this was a sad memory at all. "You know how anxious kids are for their homes to look like Christmas. It probably only took him 10 minutes to lose his patience with us."

She smiled back, her face instantly brightening. "Listen, mister, it's not just kids who can't wait for Christmas!"

"Oh, I'm well aware of that."

"I think I found it!" they heard Rory shout.

They started over to the edge of the lot where she was currently jumping up and down.

Luke kept his arm lightly around Lorelai's waist, since she hadn't yet given him her 'no touching' look. "I wish you would have let me take you over to the tree farm on the way to Woodbridge. At least it would've been fresh."

She shook her head. "I told you, I can't afford their prices. At least, not this year."

"But I could –"

"Yes, you could pay. I know." She stopped again, looking at him sternly. "Do you remember the conversation we had when I found you fixing my porch? There are some things, as the mom, that I need to do, and this is one of them. I appreciate your offer, but you do too much for us as it is. I swear, I don't know how the diner makes a profit since you insist on feeding us for free so many times a week."

"You provide valuable customer feedback on the food."

"Yeah, right," she said with a little snort of disbelief. "You're too good to us, Luke."

"Not possible," he murmured, but they were to Rory's tree by then, and Lorelai broke away to examine it.

"Hmm, I'm not sure," she told her daughter. "It's pretty scraggly in the back."

"But it's got the perfect branch to put the angel on top," Rory argued, pointing.

"Let's look around a little more," Lorelai encouraged her.

"Right, let's look more," Luke muttered. He glanced around the confines of the lot, located in the normally-empty spot next to the Hewes Brothers Garage. "Maybe there's still one tree you haven't already shot down."

"Maybe some hot cocoa would help us find the prettiest tree," Rory suggested, coming up to stand in front of him. She smacked her lips a little bit, looking at him hopefully.

Luke pulled out the thermos he'd been carrying underneath his arm. "And why you needed cocoa for this is beyond me. We're only a few steps from the diner. We could go over there and have cocoa inside, out of the wind." But nevertheless, he poured a cupful for Rory.

She shrugged as she took the shiny cap full of hot chocolate from him. "It's more fun this way."

Lorelai was suddenly there, tugging on his jacket sleeve. "And that's what this is all about," she said, her voice full of that hard-edged sugar that let him know he was being too critical again. "Fun."

He took the hint and stopped complaining.

Lorelai and Rory shared the cocoa as they took another lap around the tree lot. He stood and listened without comment as one tree after another was dismissed as too short, too tall, too skinny, too fat, and once, as "too Madonna." Since he couldn't feel his feet by that time, he didn't even ask what that meant.

Eventually he zoned out, letting his mind roam over inventory lists, and thinking about what he still needed to do to help Rory finish up her presents. He may have even spent a few minutes admiring Lorelai in the knitted cap again. All he knew was that suddenly both girls were facing him triumphantly, a hardy pine tree balanced between them.

"What do you think?" Rory asked.

"Everett's pretty handsome, isn't he?" Lorelai threw out.

He tried to get back in the present. "Everett?"

"Everett the Evergreen," she said, as if it needed no explanation.

He closed his eyes. "You named it?"

Rory and Lorelai looked at each other and shrugged.

"Sure," Rory said.

"Come on. Doesn't he look like an Everett?" Lorelai added.

Luke sighed heavily. "That's just going to make it harder when he's lost all of his needles and you have to throw him out."

"Aww!" Rory gasped.

"Hey!" Lorelai said sharply.

"I mean, yeah. He's a great tree," Luke tried to backpedal. "So…are we ready to go?" He handed the thermos to Rory, so that he and Lorelai could carry the tree to the cashier.

Once Lorelai had paid and accepted three tiny candy canes from the guy manning the booth, Luke cast a frown her way. "How are you getting this home?"

She looked back at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "Why I don't know. If only we knew someone with a truck…"

He sighed. "I'll be back in a minute with the pickup."

"Yay!" Rory cheered, and then sniffed at Everett's fragrant branches.

Luke ignored the needles scratching at his face and hauled the tree up the last step onto the front porch. He leaned it against the house. "OK, one of you go get a bucket now, or a big tub."

"Why?" Rory asked.

"Because I'm going to cut a couple inches off of the bottom of the trunk, and then we'll let the tree sit in a bucket of water for a while and suck up some moisture. That might help it to stay fresh a little bit longer."

Both girls looked at him as if he was speaking Sanskrit. "What?" he asked, looking from one to the other.

"This is Tree Day," Lorelai said.

"We're decorating him today," Rory said confidently, nodding.

"But…you can't." Luke had never felt more outnumbered. "That's not how you do it. The tree needs a chance to drink first, before he gets trapped inside the hot house."

The girls stared at him, a remarkably similar pout on both of their mouths.

"You'll see," he said, sounding a little desperate as he tried to make them understand this was the normal way of doing things. "You'll see how waiting a little bit now will make it better. He'll last longer this way."

Now he had two sets of heartbroken blue eyes staring at him.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not winning this one, am I?"

"No, but it's really cute you thought you could," Lorelai said, squeezing shut one eye in what he thought was meant to be a wink.

"Fine. Go get your tree stand and bring it out here. I'm going to go get the saw out of the truck. It'll be easier for me to get it in the stand out here than inside the house."

Lorelai unlocked the door and she and Rory raced inside.

Luke took a moment to run his hand through the tree's branches. "Sorry, buddy. You're doomed."

In a few minutes they were gathered on the porch again, Lorelai holding the tree and Rory watching over Luke's shoulder as he sawed through the trunk. Once that was done, Luke took the stand and fitted it onto the tree.

"OK," he said, standing up and standing up the tree as well. "Let's get it inside and then we'll straighten it up once we get it where you want it. You girls are going to have to make sure it has plenty of water every day. Promise me that, at least."

"We promise," they both repeated obediently.

Rory excitedly ran to the door, holding it open. He and Lorelai both took hold of the tree, ready to carry it inside.

Luke soon saw it wasn't going to work. The tree was a tight fit, and he didn't dare shove too hard for fear of hurting Lorelai.

"Stand back," he told her.

She was reluctant to release her hold. "Are you sure?"

"Yep," he said curtly, ready to give brute force a try. Then he saw that Rory was standing too close to the door and he had to abort the attempt again. "Rory, get back! Give me and Everett room to get in!" he snapped, just wanting to get the stupid tree inside the house where it could shrivel and die a peaceful death.

To his surprise, both girls broke out in delighted giggles.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You called him Everett!" Rory snickered.

"What's wrong with that?" he fumed, glaring at both of them in turn. "That's his name, isn't it?"

That brought forth peals of laughter from both of them. Lorelai actually had to sit down on the porch steps, rocking back and forth in hysterics.

He shook his head, not caring what they found so silly about his question. He picked up the tree once more, determined not to stop until they'd both breached the living room.

Branches rustled against the door frame in protest, but with a rush the tree was inside.

Rory had backed far away as the Christmas tree express had entered. "Wow," she said now. "It makes the living room look tiny." She looked around the space. "Is there room for it in here?"

"There better be," Luke said grimly, brushing pine needles off of his jacket. "Where do you want it to stand?"

"Huh, I don't know." Lorelai had also stepped inside. She shut the door behind her and looked around. "This is our first Christmas here, so this is a big decision. Do we go with it by the front window, the traditional placement, so that everyone driving by can see it? Should we put it by the fireplace? By the TV, so we can watch it and the TV at the same time?"

"Well, I don't see a plug-in by the window," Luke observed. "I wouldn't recommend by the fireplace if you're going to have a fire, for obvious reasons. So I vote for by the TV."

Lorelai nodded, taking off her jacket, hat and mittens and dropping them on the sofa. "Take it over there and let's see how it looks." She toed off her boots, watching him pick up the tree.

Luke moved it beside the TV, thinking that was the end of it.

Fifteen minutes later he was still carting the tree around the room, trying to find 'the' spot.

"Could we try it by the fireplace again?" Lorelai mused.

"We won't light a fire," Rory pledged.

Luke picked up the tree, getting poked yet again in the wrist by an aggressive needle. He grabbed the tree roughly and moved it back to the first location they'd tried, the spot by the TV. "This is where it's going," he declared, plunking it down.

"But –"

"No buts. This is it." He rubbed at his scratched wrist.

"OK," Lorelai sighed. She tilted her head, regarding the tree. "Yeah, that works," she admitted.

"Thank God." He sat down heavily on the couch, ready for a break.

But the break didn't last long. The tree needed to be adjusted in the stand until it stood straight. Then they filled the stand with water, Luke once again admonishing them to check the water level daily and never to let it go dry.

Lorelai had purchased a couple of boxes of lights, so the next chore was getting them out of the packaging and wound around the tree. When the colorful strands lit up, Rory clapped her hands in joy.

"It's so pretty," she said in awe. "And just smell! Doesn't the house smell good now? And fresh. It's like the tree brought the outside inside!"

"The magic of Christmas," Lorelai said, looking at Rory in loving amusement.

Luke looked at Rory too, and felt a little lump form in his throat when he saw the Christmas lights reflected in her excited eyes. He glanced over at Lorelai, who was watching her daughter in serene contentment. She looked so beautiful standing there that she nearly took his breath away. Outside the daylight had faded gradually while they worked, and now the cheerful tree provided a warm glow for the entire room.

"Magic," he heard himself repeat, in total agreement.

Lorelai looked at him, grinning at his final surrender to the holiday spirit. "I think…ornaments next, right?"

"Where are they?" Luke asked, looking around the room.

"Still in the attic," Lorelai said regretfully.

"You guys go." Rory sat down cross-legged in front of the tree, mesmerized by the lights. "I'll keep Everett company."

Luke followed Lorelai upstairs and helped her open the pull-down attic ladder. He automatically prepared to climb up the steps but she stopped him.

"Tell you what, let me go up and grab the boxes and hand them down to you. I've yet to master the ability to back down the ladder with something in my hands. In fact, I'm pretty sure ladders hate me."

"Then just let me do it."

"No, I can't remember if I marked the Christmas boxes or not. It'll be easier for me to go up and poke around for them than try to describe them to you."

Before Luke could try to change her mind, she started to scramble up the steps. He held the ladder steady and tried hard to ignore what was passing right in front of his face. Eventually he was able to successfully focus his eyes on the Santa Claus socks on her feet.

"Be careful," he urged, as she disappeared through the opening. He could hear her stepping cautiously on the attic floor over his head.

"I found the angel!" Lorelai yelled triumphantly. He climbed up a few steps on the ladder, in order to reach up and take the box she was lowering down to him. He put the box on the floor, then returned to the ladder, waiting for the next discovery.

"Here's one!" Carefully she lowered down a much larger cardboard box.

"How many more?" Luke asked, listening to her searching once again above him.

"Just one," she called back. "Found it!" she yelled almost immediately.

Luke took the last box from her and began to back down the stairs. Lorelai turned around and began to descend the steps too. His feet had just touched the floor when disaster struck. A rough splinter of wood on one of the higher rungs snagged Lorelai's left Santa Claus sock. Unaware of the problem, she tried to take the next step down, only to lose her footing completely as the sock held firm. With a small cry of alarm she helplessly tumbled backwards.

Instantly Luke let go of the box and raised his arms to catch her. She slammed into him and he staggered backwards, his back forcefully hitting the hallway wall.

There was a moment of silence while they both tried to process what had happened, breathing hard. Then, "Are you all right?" they both asked at the same time, Lorelai twisting around in his arms so she could see him.

"What happened?" Rory yelled from downstairs.

For once Lorelai ignored her daughter. "God, Luke, you had to hit the wall a ton. Are you hurt?" She pulled out of his still-protective arms and forced him to move away from the wall. His hat had gone flying from the impact and she ran her hand over the back of his head and neck, feeling for lumps. Satisfied his head was in one piece, she put her hands under his flannel shirt and felt his back through his t-shirt. "Are you bleeding or anything?"

He stretched an arm back to her, landing somewhere on her ribs. "I think I'm OK. How about you?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. "See, I told you ladders hate me!" She continued to rub over his back, searching for non-existent injuries.

Her hands felt amazing and he couldn't quite stifle a groan from the pleasant touch.

"Here?" she asked at once, tenderly massaging that spot on his back. "Is this where you hit?"

"Um…maybe?" He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't especially want her to stop rubbing his back.

By now Rory had appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes big with shock. "What was that noise?"

"The ladder tried to kill me!" Lorelai pointed at the steps, where her sock hung from the splintered wood. "Thank goodness Luke was here to save me."

"Thank goodness," Rory echoed, looking at him in admiration mixed with concern. "Did you get hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." Now with Rory looking on, he shook off Lorelai's attentions. "I don't think I can say the same about your box, though."

"Oh, man," Lorelai said, looking over at the tipped, slightly smashed box for the first time. All three of them approached it cautiously, and when they reached it, Lorelai held her breath, righted it, and carefully lifted off the lid. They all peeked inside.

Then Luke was the one to hold his breath, waiting for the wails to begin. Because every ornament in the box had been reduced to nothing but thousands of jagged shards of colored glass.

"Huh," Lorelai said, taking in the damage.

"Wow," Rory added, sounding more fascinated than devastated.

"I'm…I'm really sorry," Luke began, fretting over the loss of their decorations.

"No biggie," Lorelai said offhandedly. "Plus, you did basically save my life."

"Really?" Luke was skeptical.

"Did you really save my life? Yes, you did."

"No, I mean – you're not upset about the ornaments breaking?

"Nah. They were just some I picked up at the end of the season last year. They didn't really mean anything to us. Now, if something had happened to this box, that would have been different." She patted the lid of the other box. "All of the special ones are in here."

"And the angel's OK." Rory picked up the square, white box, giving it a hug.

"Yeah, we love our angel," Lorelai agreed with a chuckle. "She's exceptional."

"She lights up," Rory told him. "And changes colors!"

"That I'll have to see." He picked up his hat, slapped it back on his head, then extricated Lorelai's sock from the ladder.

"Thanks." She sat down on the floor to put it back on, but had to remove a big splinter from it first.

Rory carried the angel downstairs, Lorelai took the box of intact decorations, and Luke brought down the sad box destined for the trash.

As soon as they got back to the living room, Rory set about liberating the angel from her protective box. "She needs to go on the top first," she stated.

Luke nodded, assessing the height of the tree. "I hate to bring this up after what just happened upstairs…but do you have a ladder?"

Lorelai, who was on the floor looking through the box of whole ornaments, chuckled a little bit. "Well, there's a step stool in the kitchen, but it's not very tall."

"Then I guess we go with Plan B." He motioned for Rory to come stand by him. "Remember apple picking?"

"Yeah…" she said warily, clutching the angel to her chest.

"Here you go." He lifted her up to his shoulders, thankful that her squeal wasn't nearly as shrill as it had been in September. "Get her anchored on that top branch, if you can."

While Rory strained to position the angel, Luke noticed other things that had changed since the trip to the old mill. Rory's legs now dangled much further down over his chest, and carrying her up on his shoulders took more of his strength. She'd been growing, getting bigger, right in front of his eyes but he hadn't realized it until just now. The physical proof that she was growing up made him feel proud and sad at the same time. He glanced over at Lorelai again, wondering if she was aware of it too, if that fact caused the same confusion in her heart.

"Does that look OK?" Rory wondered.

"Tilt her just an inch that way," Lorelai instructed.

"Like this?"

"Too far…back…there! Perfect!"

Luke bent his head and lowered Rory down to the ground, realizing as he did so that next year he wouldn't be able to do that with her. She'd be too big. Too grown up to allow it. That bittersweet thought brought another lump to his throat.

To distract himself from his emotions he went into the kitchen to get the step stool. It might not have been tall enough to get the angel to the very top of the tree, but it gave him enough extra height to connect the wiring to one of the light strands.

The angel lit up and instantly began changing from white to blue to purple to green to pink to yellow and back again.

"Oooooh," both girls sighed, watching the angel as if hypnotized.

"That's quite an angel," he commented, grinning at their reactions.

"She's so pretty," Rory said dreamily.

Lorelai shook herself out of the angelic trance she'd been under. "Here, Rory, come and get your elf and put it on the tree."

"Do I have to?" Rory grumbled.

"Yes. It's the first Christmas thing you made in preschool. It's adorable." Lorelai held out a rather mangled elf face, glued onto what looked to be a small paper plate.

"OK, but it's going off to the side, where hopefully no one will see it."

"And here's your popsicle-stick reindeer. Oh, and the pony bead candy cane!"

Rory made a noise of disgust but dutifully took the handcrafted ornaments out of her mother's hands. She found good hiding places for them, deep within Everett's branches.

Luke sat down on the couch, looking over Lorelai's shoulder into the box. "So that's why this box was the important one? It has all of the school projects in it?"

"You bet." Lorelai looked up at him, smiling. "Things that never would have been permitted on the tree at my house growing up, where every Christmas had a theme and each ornament was meticulously measured to be six inches apart from the other."

"But this is what matters to you."

"This is what matters the most, definitely."

"Anything else in the box except for things made from pipe cleaners and clay hand prints?" Luke asked, watching her lift out a couple more mementos.

She chuckled again, then pointed to some tissue paper-wrapped bundles. "Yes, a few. Mia got in the habit of giving us a nice ornament to put on our tree every year."

"That's not very much to hang on your awfully big tree."

"Yeah, I know. We've never needed much before, because when we lived at the Inn we always had a teeny tiny little tree for us, but we could always go enjoy the huge tree and all of the decorations in the lobby. But now that we're living here in our own house, we can go all out." She shrugged. "I'll take Rory shopping tomorrow and we'll find some cheapy ornaments to fill out the space. We've got our stockings to hang up and a sleigh to put on the mantel." She patted those items she'd laid on the floor beside the box. "Hey, I know! Maybe we'll just decorate the extra space on the tree with candy canes! That would be pretty and keep us from starving!"

Luke sat and thought for a few minutes, watching Lorelai pull things out of the box and listening while she told a story about almost all of them. He smiled pensively, following Rory with his eyes as she sighed and cringed over the ornaments crafted during her toddler years.

He stood up abruptly, reaching for his coat. "I'm going to run out for a few minutes. You know – just to check on the diner. I'll be back as soon as I can, OK?"

"You have to go?" Rory sounded disappointed.

"But I'll be back," he promised.

"With food?" Lorelai hopefully asked.

"I'll see what I can do," he said, and left through the front door.

Luke didn't go to the diner.

He parked in front of a well-kept two-story house, a few streets away from the Gilmore's. He walked to the back, where he saw Mrs. Thompson through the kitchen window. He waved and motioned towards the garage. She waved back, smiling and nodding at him.

He unlocked the side door to the garage, using one of the keys on his ring. As always, it took him a few minutes to come to terms with the bits and pieces of his family that were stored there. And the boat. The sheer volume of the boat always surprised him, no matter how many times he'd stepped inside the garage.

Moving in front of the boat, he shifted an end table and a box of books so he could get to a gray metal shelving unit. From the top he carefully lifted down a green and white striped box, which was almost as big as the shelf itself. His mother had told him many times that the box had once held her dress for senior prom.

For a minute he studied the faded stripes on the cover, absently rubbing his hand over it to brush off the dust, letting his eyes trace over the feminine handwriting found there.

Then, very carefully, he carried the box to his truck and drove back to Lorelai and Rory.

"I'm back," he announced, entering the living room.

"No, that's not how to do it," Lorelai chastised him, still sitting on the floor, trying to put some flounce back into a red ribbon that had long ago lost its holiday luster. "You're supposed to say, 'Hi honey, I'm home!'" She looked over at him then, smiling. "Hey, what have you got there?"

He didn't reply, just sat the box down next to her on the floor.

"It's a really huge, rectangular pizza?" she guessed.

"Doesn't smell like pizza." Rory had scooted over to investigate.

"Luke? What is this?"

"Open it." He took off his coat and sat back down on the couch, watching.

Lorelai gave him a long, searching look before getting her fingers underneath the lid and prying it off. The box was filled with numerous items, all meticulously wrapped up in green tissue paper. With Rory looking on, Lorelai picked up one of the objects and gingerly unwrapped it.

A cardinal, made of glass and skillfully painted, sat in her hand. "Oh, my…this is…absolutely exquisite." She moved the cardinal from side to side, showing it off.

Rory reached for one of the parcels, then looked to Luke for approval. At his nod, she delicately unwrapped it. "Mom! Look, it's a merry-go-round horse!"

"So pretty," Lorelai said, admiring it. Lightly, she put the cardinal on the coffee table and reached for another item. That one turned out to be a round silver ball, decorated with hand-painted poinsettias.

Eagerly, but still using great care, Rory picked up another one. "It's a cowboy boot!"

Lorelai turned around to face Luke, her eyes filled with understanding. "These are yours, aren't they? Your family's."

He gave a slight nod. "That cowboy boot was mine. Like most little boys, I went through a cowboy phase." He smiled at Rory, who was still holding it. "That carousel horse was my sister's. There's one that looks like a real horse buried in there somewhere – that one was mine."

Lorelai rose up on her knees and then leaned forward, putting her hands on his legs. She was chewing on her bottom lip, trying to come up with the right thing to say. "Luke, these are so beautiful, but they're so delicate and fragile, and obviously they're filled with special meaning for you. Are you sure you want us to use them? It's so sweet of you to bring them over, but what if we –"

"They should be used."

"But –"

"I want them here. I want to see them again." He took a breath and shrugged his shoulders slightly, trying to explain it. "They've been hidden away for too many years already, Lorelai. It would mean a lot to me to share them with you this Christmas."

Lorelai's eyes changed, suddenly becoming a shimmering midnight blue, and his heart sped up. "All right," she said softly, tenderly squeezing his knee.

Rory climbed up on the couch next to him, putting one arm halfway around his back in a hug. Then she handed him the cowboy boot before clambering back off the couch.

Both girls pulled him off the couch. They led him over to the tree, and he had the honor of hanging the first Danes' ornament on Everett's branches.

December 10th

For months Lorelai had been telling him that he didn't need to bother with knocking at their door and waiting for them to answer. Just come in, she'd always encouraged him. It's fine with us, even if you catch us in our pj's! He never had though, because it just seemed too weird. But today he was in a rush and he knew for a fact they were home, probably hurrying to get ready to go to the fancy party in Hartford. So he compromised, giving a few quick knocks on the door as a warning, before opening it and walking inside.

He entered the living room and then stopped in surprise, because a young woman was standing there beside the fireplace. She turned to face him. "Rory?" he said tentatively, feeling shocked at her appearance, wondering if he'd stepped into some kind of time warp.

She looked at him strangely. "Yeah?"

He fumbled around for words, not wanting to seem like a complete fool. "I was trying to say, Rory, you look very pretty."

"Do you think so?" Pleased, she looked down at her dress, the color of holly leaves, and smoothed down the skirt.

"You look very grown up," he told her, and she beamed. But he wasn't sure he meant that as a compliment, although it was truthful. She looked as though she'd grown six inches taller and the dress was cut in such a way to make it look as though she had the beginnings of a figure.

She preened for him a little bit more, turning around. "Look, Mom's letting me wear pantyhose tonight. And she put up my hair." She walked over closer to him, bending her head so he could see better. Playfully she tapped at her upswept 'do. "I think there's like a whole can of hairspray on here. Mom kept complaining my hair was too slippery to stay up."

Something shiny caught his eye and he reached out and took her chin, tilting her head again. "Did your mom let you pierce your ears?" he demanded.

"No, not yet." She pulled away from him and carefully touched one lobe, checking for the earring. "These are stick-ons."

"Stick-ons?"

"Yeah. They come on a card, one pair for each day of the month. You peel them off the card and stick them on your ears."

Luke still wasn't sure he understood. "You mean they have glue on them?"

"I guess."

"Then you have to pull them off? Doesn't that hurt?"

"Usually they fall off on their own before that," she explained. "But aren't they pretty?" She tilted her head again, making the green zircons sparkle.

Luke sighed heavily, not liking to see her looking so adult, but also not willing to hurt her feelings. "Yep, they're very pretty. Just like you."

"Thanks!" she said, giggling. "Why are you here?" she asked next.

He pulled something vaguely pen-shaped out of his coat pocket, then pointed at the Christmas tree. "You told me at breakfast that some of the lights weren't working. I thought I'd come over here and try to find out why."

"What's that?"

"It's a bulb tester. I ran by the hardware store and picked one up on the way over." He went over to the tree, plugging in the lights. Sure enough, one strand didn't light up.

Rory followed him over. "Do you ever think how strange it is, that you have to go to a hardware store to buy stuff when you used to have your own?"

"The irony is not lost on me."

"So what are you doing?"

"If this lights up, it means the bulb is getting juice. If I find one I think is bad, I can take it out and stick it in this slot in the tester. If it doesn't light up, then I know it's bad and I can replace it with a good one."

"Cool." Rory watched him troubleshoot the strand for a few moments. Then she moved away, to call up the stairs. "Mom! Get a move on! You know what Grandma's going to say if we're late."

"We're not going to be late!" He heard Lorelai's footsteps in the upstairs hallway, then on the stairs themselves. Casually he looked over his shoulder to see her.

And then, things got fuzzy, sort of, and time slowed way, way down. Sounds stopped reaching his ears, but his eyes worked double-time.

He could see black high heels. Shiny, and sporting a heel of ridiculous height. Normally he'd protest the ridiculousness, but seeing what those heels did to her ankles and calves shut him right up. Her legs went on for miles. Miles of incredibly gorgeous, shapely legs. And then there were her knees, something he'd really never given much thought to before, but tonight he could see what a mistake that had been. Her knees were just as unbelievable as the rest of her. He had a fleeting thought, wondering what the tender backside of those knees would feel like…

…but then inches and inches and yet more inches of her thighs came into view, knocking the fantasies about her knees right out of his head.

Then there was black material, clingy stuff, showing every curve and turn of her body. Luke had once heard, somewhere on TV, a discussion about the necessity for women to have a 'little black dress.' He'd just never realized, until now, that 'little' was the operative word in that description.

The top of the dress was scooped, baring far more skin that what was probably prudent for December. Her neck was also uncovered, her hair swept up to the top of her head, like Rory's. Her neck was long and graceful and vulnerable, full of extraordinary spots that a man, such as himself, might like to kiss.

It took Luke a long, long time before his eyes finally made it above Lorelai's neck, to her face. But when he did, he saw that she was laughing at him. Laughing, but her cheeks were blazing in embarrassment. And her own eyes were staring back at him, huge and stunned and wary.

He found that his mouth had been hanging open, but he shut it now, then immediately opened it again, struggling to find something to say.

"I have to change," Lorelai said abruptly, turning and heading back upstairs again at a quick clip.

"Mom, no!" Rory hung on the railing. "There's no time!"

"I won't be long!" she yelled. Her bedroom door slammed.

Luke turned, pretending to work on the tree again, hoping to ignore Rory for the time being. He also tried to ignore the knowledge that at this exact moment, Lorelai was upstairs, taking off that spectacular dress…

"What was that about?" Rory asked, coming over to stand beside him. "Why did you look so peculiar?"

He pulled one of the small lightbulbs out of the socket, fumbled it, and then had to drop to the floor to look for it. "Rory, you know I've told you before that your mom is really pretty. And sometimes…Well, sometimes it's just impossible to overlook that."

Rory looked confused. "Do you…like her?"

"Of course I like her," he blustered. "I like both of you. That's why I spend so much time with you."

"You know that's not what I mean," she said petulantly.

"Look, Rory." He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to come up with some sort of better explanation. He stood back up and did his best. "It's like when you go to a museum, you know? And you stand there and you look at a really pretty painting. You know you can't bring the painting home with you. You just stand there and admire it for a while."

Rory looked back at him, a suspicious scowl still on her mouth.

He took the opportunity of her continued silence to change the subject. "Do you have your grandparents' presents ready to go?"

"Yeah, they're in the car. I hope they like them."

"I'm sure they will. You did a tremendous job on them."

"Thanks to you," she said generously, apparently ready to let bygones be bygones.

They could hear Lorelai coming back down the steps. "Rory, go grab a sweater," she ordered her daughter.

"But I've got sleeves," she argued, pointing to her dress.

"Yes, but you never know. Grandma will have the house set to a proper party temperature, allowing for the heat from a tightly packed mass of revelers. Bring a sweater just in case Hartford's upper crust doesn't warm things up enough."

Rory rolled her eyes, but headed for her room.

Luke forced himself to walk over to where Lorelai was transferring items from her big purse to a smaller clutch. She'd put on a deep blue dress that was still extremely flattering to her, but didn't cling to her figure or expose half as much skin.

"You didn't need to change," he told her, bravely trying to apologize.

"Yeah, I did."

"Lorelai, I'm so sorry if I–"

"Luke, it's OK. I had my doubts about that dress anyway. I should thank you for being my canary in a coal mine. The second she saw me, Mom probably would have made me come back home and change. Or made me wear a maid's outfit. Something like that."

"But still, I was…" He shook his head, swallowing hard. "I was completely out of line, looking at you…like that," he finished up miserably.

She focused on him finally, slightly smiling, but also looking a little self-conscious. "It's OK. It was a shock, to see you looking at me that way. But I'm pretty sure every woman wants to have a guy look at her like that, at least once during her life."

"Again, I can't tell you how ashamed I feel."

"No, forget it. I knew the dress was a little on the risqué side. It's a tradition at work for a group of us to bring in party dresses before the holidays to trade back and forth, so that we all have something new to wear to our events. I tried this one on, and the girls insisted I take it because it fit me so well. And it's so pretty, with the beading and all."

Beading? Luke thought blankly.

"But I was worried it wasn't right for tonight. So thanks for saving me from Emily's wrath." She indicated the dress she was wearing. "This one's much safer, right?"

"It's still pretty, but in a different way," he agreed. Several tendrils of her hair had come loose, probably from changing out of one dress into the other, and the few dangling curls made her look even more beautiful to his eyes. "You look very pretty," he shyly complimented her.

"Thanks." She smiled, appearing pleased that he thought so.

A sudden boldness came over him. "Have you gotten me anything for Christmas yet?"

She turned coy. "You think I'm getting you a present?"

"I know you are. I've heard you and Rory whispering about it for days."

Lorelai laughed. "Busted!"

Luke smiled back at her. "Well, I'll make you a deal. You don't have to get me anything."

"Why's that?"

He looked down at the floor for a second, still smiling. "We're going out New Year's Eve, right?"

"That's the plan," she agreed, looking at him curiously.

He met her eyes confidently. "All you have to do is wear that black dress for me on New Year's Eve."

"Luke!" She sounded half-shocked, half-delighted.

"That dress is too pretty – and you're too pretty in it – not to wear it," he told her, bending his head closer to hers. "And the only way you can wear it is if I'm there with you, to protect you from all of the guys who are going to be fighting to get next to you when they see you in it."

"Oh, is that right?" Her voice was silky, flirty, but she looked at him as if she wasn't sure if she should smack him or go along with his suggestion. "Well…maybe I will."

"Good," he replied, feeling satisfied.

"Just one question." She leaned closer to him. "Who's going to protect me from you?"

Luke traced one of the curls floating down her neck. "You don't need protection from me."

"I don't?" she whispered.

He put his fingers under her chin. "Never."

"Is this black one OK?" Rory asked, returning to the room with two sweaters. "Or should I bring the red one, since it's Christmas?"

Lorelai took a staggering step back from him. "The black one," she said distractedly, looking around in confusion. "Where's my purse?"

Luke pointed to the clutch still in her hands.

"Oh," she said, her cheeks flushing. She hurried to put on her coat.

He watched them head to the door, but Rory suddenly stopped. "This isn't right," she said.

"No, we're fine," Lorelai countered. "The gifts are in the car, you look perfect, and I look completely presentable, guaranteed not to give my mother a heart attack. We're ready to go."

"No, I don't mean that." Rory looked back at Luke. "It's not right that Luke's not coming with us. He should come too."

Luke shook his head. "No, Rory, this is your time with your family. Not me."

But Lorelai looked at him thoughtfully. "She's right. It does feel like you should be coming with us."

He shook his head harder, not knowing what to say.

Lorelai glanced at Rory, then back at him. "So…do you wanna come? We could swing by your place, you could put on a suit. I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind. In fact, she'd be thrilled for the chance to meet our Stars Hollow mystery man!"

Luke was both touched and terrified by the offer. "Maybe next year," he suggested.

"Next year," Lorelai agreed, although reluctantly. She held open the door and Rory stepped outside. "Hey, Luke," she added, turning back to him once more. "We'll stop by the diner on our way home. Maybe for a nightcap?"

"The milk and cookies will be waiting for you," he promised.

"Great." She smiled softly at him, then hurried out, closing the door behind her.

Luke heard them drive away. He kept testing the lights, finally locating the bulb that had caused the strand to go dark. It lit up once he had the replacement in, and he used the next few minutes to admire his family's old ornaments scattered throughout Everett's branches.

It occurred to him that being alone in the house didn't feel weird to him at all. He'd gotten so used to being here. The house seemed almost as familiar to him as the one he'd grown up in. It felt right to be here, seeing items that blended his life with theirs.

Looking around, he saw that there was now a third stocking hanging over the fireplace. He realized it was printed to look like a cowboy boot. And as he stepped closer, it didn't surprise him at all to see his own name spelled out in glittery letters at the top.

All it did was make him smile.