The little girl waddled up to the mall Santa, her bright pink boots squeaking on the polished marble floor. Bundled in layers of fluffy fleece and wool, she resembled a tiny, walking marshmallow. The scent of fresh cookies and hot chocolate wafted from the nearby food court, mingling with the sound of Bing Crosby's crooning voice. Ivy tugged her brother Jude behind her, his eyes wide with apprehension. Santa had seen lots of children today, The Hartford Mall was always packed the day after Thanksgiving. However, this little girl seemed different. She had a look of sheer determination on her face. The children approached him and he smiled.

"Ho, Ho, Ho" Santa bellowed as the children situated themselves on his lap. "What are your names?"

The little girl threw back her scarf that was wrapped around her mouth. "Look, let's cut the small talk Claus. I'm Lorelai the 4th, but everyone calls me Ivy, like the roman numerals for 4. This is Jude. You see those two people over there?" She pointed a mitten-clad hand at her parents, who stood nearby, smiling awkwardly.

Santa nodded.

"Those two are our parents. We need a Christmas miracle! Our mommy and daddy have loved each other for a long time. Since college! But now all they do is argue. They fight really loud when they think we're asleep." The little girl explained, her bright blue eyes twinkingling like the Christmas lights around the Mall's tree.

The little boy, Jude, who had not taken his eyes off Santa, nodded silently in agreement.

Ivy rambled on. "Mommy cries, and says she isn't happy, and Daddy sleeps on the couch. He thinks we don't see his pillows, or hear him sneaking down the hall to the bedroom right before mommy wakes us up, but we do."

Rory Huntzberger waved excitedly at Ivy and Jude, as Ivy pointed her and Logan out to Santa Claus. "Look how happy they are," she said, smiling.

Logan smiled and waved as well. "It's officially Christmas time and they're talking to the big fat man himself. Of course they're happy." His jaw clenched slightly.

Rory's hand brushed against his, a gentle touch that usually comforted him, but today felt forced."I don't think we should tell them yet, Logan." Rory said, twirling a strand of hair anxiously.

"I don't think we should tell them at all," Logan thought to himself. Logan's gaze drifted from his children's laughter to Rory's profile. Her smile seemed forced, a faint crease between her brows. He knew that look – the one that said she was holding back.

As they watched Ivy and Jude chat with Santa, Logan's mind wandered to the tension that had been simmering between them. The stress of leaving his father's company, the financial struggles, and the exhaustion of raising two young children had taken its toll.

He recalled the spark that had drawn him to Rory – her fearless wit, the way she'd stood up to him in the hallway, exchanging verbal jabs like equals. Judy Deutsch, she'd called him, and he'd known in that instant, he wanted her. But now, as he stood beside her, he felt the weight of their struggles. The distance between them seemed insurmountable. Last night's conversation replayed in his mind: Rory sliding the file across his desk, her eyes avoiding his. "I think it's time," she'd said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan's eyes dropped, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. He couldn't bring himself to meet Rory's gaze, fearing the truth he'd see there.

Rory pointed at Ivy and Jude, up on Santa's lap, chatting excitedly. "What do you think she's asking for?"

"So you see, we don't want presents this year Santa. We don't want footballs, or Operation, or dolls, or a bike. We don't want anything like that." Ivy chattered on.

Santa sighed, he was afraid of where this was going. "Well, I don't know if. . . "

Ivy cut him off. "I know this is usually Cupid's jurisdiction, but this is an emergency. We want you to make our mommy and daddy love each other again."

. . .

Logan's stomach growled. He hadn't eaten breakfast, he and Rory had once again gotten into an argument, that led to him storming out and taking refuge at the office. He glanced at his watch. 10.49 a.m. He walked out of his office, stopping at his secretary's desk. "I'm going to grab something to eat. I'll be back soon."

Mya, his new secretary blushed. "You don't have to do that. We can send one of the assistants or I could go and. . ."

Logan shook his head. "I'd like some fresh air. Would you like anything? My treat."

"Oh sir, thank you but Troy is meeting me for lunch."

Logan smiled wistfully. Mya and Troy's two-month marriage radiated newlywed bliss. Memories flooded his mind: lazy Sundays, surprise getaways, and laughter-filled nights with Rory. The elevator ride down became a nostalgic escape.

A sharp blast of cold air hit him as he opened the doors to the street. He scratched his chin timidly, trying to decide where to go. He saw the sign for Doc's delicatessen up the street. It was quaint and small, but had the best hot turkey club on sourdough he had ever had. He walked briskly up the street, pulling his scarf tight to block out the frigid air.

Doc's warm smile greeted Logan as he pushed open the door to the cozy cafe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods enveloped him, immediately making him feel at home. Ruby, Doc's curious four-year-old daughter, sat perched on a stool at the counter, coloring.

"Hey, Doc!" Logan said, unwinding his scarf. "Hot turkey club on sourdough please."

Doc's eyes twinkled. "Ah, Logan, you deserve something special today. My homemade hot cocoa is a game-changer."

Logan hesitated. "I'm not really a—"

Ruby jumped in, her voice bubbling with excitement. "It's Santa's favorite!"

Logan chuckled, unable to resist her enthusiasm. "Well, in that case..." He glanced at Doc. "and a hot cocoa, please."

"$12.75," Doc announced, handing Logan a steaming cup of cocoa. Ruby's eyes sparkled. "He put extra chocolate in it, just how Santa likes it!"

As Logan reached for his wallet, his fingers slipped, and the cup flew from his grasp. Scalding cocoa splashed everywhere. Logan leapt backward, crashing into the customer behind him, and landed flat on his back in a puddle of hot cocoa.

Groaning, Logan's head spun. A helping hand appeared, and he grasped it, pulling himself up.

"Thanks..." Logan trailed off, astonished. "Santa?"

The jolly old man in a crisp Santa suit, complete with rosy cheeks and a warm smile, boomed, "HO HO HO! You took quite a tumble! Are you okay?"

Rubbing his sore head, Logan chuckled. "I'm okay... just dripping." He gestured to the cocoa-soaked pants.

"Excuse me while I clean up. Thanks for the rescue, Santa."

Santa smiled "no problem."'

After cleaning up, Logan headed to pay for his lunch. Ruby handed him a brown bag and a fresh cup of cocoa. "Already paid for!" Doc said with a smile.

"By Santa!" Ruby chimed in, her eyes sparkling.

Logan glanced around, catching a glimpse of the man in the red suit exiting the café. He grabbed the bag and thanked Ruby before hurrying out.

In the town square, Logan spotted "Santa" on a bench, feeding birds crusty bread scraps.

"Santa!" Logan called out, approaching the bench.

The man smiled and waved. Logan approached the bench. "Thanks for buying my lunch. I can pay you back."

Santa shook his head. "No, No. Tis' the season. You looked like you were having a rough day."

"More like a rough year," Logan said, scooting a piece of bread closer to the bird with the toe of his shoe.

Santa patted the empty seat next to him. "I'm no therapist, but I'm a good listener."

Logan opened his sandwich and poured out his heart. "I've got a make-or-break business deal looming, stressing me out. I left my dad's company to make a name for myself. This deal would be my first solo success. Losing it would hurt, but losing my family would devastate me—two kids and a wife."

Santa listened intently.

"Rory, my wife, served me divorce papers. We've tried everything—therapy, books, time-outs. Nothing worked. I've lost her."

Santa crumpled the sandwich wrapper and sank a perfect shot into the nearby trash can.

"Win her back."

Logan shook his head. "It's hopeless."

Santa leaned in. "How did you win her heart initially? Think back. You went all out. Treat her like your girlfriend again. Surprise her. Marriage isn't 50-50; it's giving 100%. Divorce splits things in half, but love doesn't."

Logan's mind raced with ideas. "Thank you, Santa!"

"Merry Christmas!" Santa replied cheerfully.

. . .

". . . And I want a futon... and a giant toy squid, not one of those tiny ones, I want the huge kind you get at the fair..." Ivy exclaimed.

The front door swung open, and Logan stepped in, briefcase in hand, greeted by Ivy and Jude's squeals of delight. "DADDY'S HOOOOOME!" they chimed, abandoning dinner. The kids leapt into Logan's arms, knocking his briefcase to the floor.

Rory watched, her expression unreadable. "You're home early."

Logan's eyes met hers, his smile softening. He leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss on Rory's forehead. "Nothing's more important than my family."

Rory's gaze lingered, searching. Tension simmered beneath the surface, her voice laced with subtle skepticism. "Really?"

Logan's smile faltered, sensing her unease. His phone's ringtone pierced the air, shrill and insistent. Rory's eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking to the device.

"Go ahead," she said, her tone clipped. "Answer it."

But to her surprise, Logan silenced the phone with a swift swipe.

"Did you just ignore a call?" Rory teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Logan smiled. "Just prioritizing."

Dinner resumed, and conversation flowed effortlessly, a welcome reprieve from weeks of tension. Rory savored the harmony.

Just as they settled into a comfortable rhythm, Rory's phone pierced the air.

"Mommy, your phone's ringing!" Ivy chimed.

Rory waved her hand dismissively. "Leave it."

Seizing the moment, Rory asked, " Saturday's free, right Logan? We could take the kids ice skating."

Logan hesitated. "Actually, I have a conference call."

Rory's eyes narrowed. "On Saturday?"

"It's a potential partnership," Logan explained.

Disappointment flashed across Rory's face. "Always work! Can't you take a break?"

Logan defended firmly, "This is crucial for our future."

Rory's voice rose. "Our future? You're always gone!"

Logan matched her tone. "You knew my schedule!"

Ivy and Jude sensed tension, growing quiet. Rory's phone rang again, insistently.

"Just answer it," Logan said firmly.

Rory hesitated before picking up.

"Luke?" she answered, confusion etched in her voice.

Her expression transformed, face draining of color. Her fork clattered to the plate."Yes. Ok. I'll be right there."

Logan's concern deepened. "What's wrong?"

Tears welled in Rory's eyes. "I have to go home."

"Home?" Logan asked, alarm rising. "As in Stars Hollow?"

Rory nodded solemnly. "It's my grandpa."