Ice cream. So much ice cream. Mint and strawberry and chocolate and chocolate with nuts and marshmallows and peanut butter. Heaps of tater tots, oven cooked and deep fried, piled high with cheese and chives. A heart attack's worth of Chinese and Greek and Italian. Empty cartons and containers littering the table, some even on the floor.

"Come on," Luke cried out as his boot squished into a white cardboard box, the remnants of chicken chow mein oozing out beneath his foot. "This is Day Three of what I can only hope is a three day binge, right?"

"Yeah. Sure. Of course," Lorelai hollered from the living room, her legs curled underneath her, covered in a woolly blanket.

"Yeah, sure, of course?" Luke questioned, leaning against the archway, a paper towel to his boot. "Yeah, this is the last night? Sure, you won't leave food on the ground anymore? And of course you're sorry it just ruined the sole of my new boots?"

"Yeah, this is Day Three. Sure, you can hope it's only a three day binge, but I think we both know that's not the case. And of course you can have some. That's why I left it."

"On the floor?"

"Yep."

"My new boots."

Lorelai sighed, her eyes still firmly glued to the TV. "You bought those boots in 2011."

"I know. They're brand new."

His boot now clean, Luke tromped over to the couch and pushed Lorelai aside with his hip. She gladly threw back her blanket and welcomed him into her comfort cocoon.

"Is she still sleeping?" Luke asked.

Lorelai's head snapped, Crime TV marathon be damned, and her eyes leveled on Luke.

"I know. I'm not judging. Just asking," he said, his arms raised to defend himself.

Lorelai softened. "She's really tired."

"And you?" Luke's arm wrapped around Lorelai's shoulders and pulled her close.

"I'm tired too," she said, laying her head on his flannel shirt, the smell of diner coffee igniting her nostrils. "But she needs me."

"No one is more supportive of Rory, " Luke said, catching Lorelai stiffen in his arms, "no one but you, of course. But I just think it's time for her to figure some stuff out. Make a plan."

"Make a plan? Who are you right now?"

"I'm the responsible adult and-"

"And I'm the crazy mother who's holding on to her for dear life, plying her with food and love and food because I don't want things to change?"

"Your words, not mine," her tells her.

Lorelai pushed away from him and whipped off the blanket. "Is that really what you think?"

"Your words, not mine," he said, exacerbated.

"Because it's what I think," she revealed.

They sat silently, the blanket on the floor, Paul Anka resting on top as So You Murdered You Husband's Lover played too loudly on the TV.

###

"Okay, so you stay here, run The Gazette, get your own place maybe, and raise a you know what," Lane offered, precariously sitting on her drum stool as her twins played on the carpet nearby.

Rory sighed and flopped back on the couch.

"Okay, or… or you could tell Logan and-"

"No!" Rory cried, her forehead wrinkling in fear and anxiety.

"Sure, why tell the father?"

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm? Or judgement? Are you judging me?"

"Whoa, crazy lady, no one is judging. And if anyone understands how freaked out you are it's me. Hello," Lane pointing to her children, "I am the queen of freaking out about you know what in the you know where."

"Lane, stop it. It's not a secret… at least not from your kids," Rory said, wondering if it was meant to be a secret at all.

"No, trust me," Lane explained. "If they hear you, they tell Zack, who tells Brain, who tells Gil and then everyone will know."

"Really? Because of Gil?"

"Yeah, he's like Hep Alien's resident Perez Hilton."

"That's a symptom of this town. There's nothing to do and somehow everything to talk about. Gossip is like wildfire here. Once it starts…" Rory complained. "Which is why option one doesn't make sense. I can't live in my old bedroom and have a… you know what, and raise it alongside my mother while everyone-"

"Talks about it behind you back?" Lane asked.

"Or to my face! There's no shame here," she sighed. "I have to leave Stars Hollow or this chi- you know what won't have a chance!"

Lane moved to the couch, her arms wrapping around Rory in a tight hug. "That's the you know what brain talking. You love Stars Hollow and I think we both know Lorelai did a damn good job raising you here."

Rory relinquished herself to the hug, her head nestled on Lane's shoulder. "I just thought things would be different. I'm 32 and-"

"And she was 16 and I was 20 and Halle Berry was 47."

"What?"

"I'm just saying life happens when it happens, you know?"

"Halle Berry's 47?"

"No, that was when she had her kid. She's gotta be in her 50's now."

"Wow. She looks amazing."

"I know, right? Anyway, all I'm saying is-"

"I know what you're saying," Rory tells her.

"So option two you move away and have the you know what and have no job or husband."

Rory yanks herself away from Lane's warm grasp. "Why is that option two?"

"Option three you move away and have the you know what and publish your award winning, best selling novel, and meet Michael Fassbender and finally settle down."

Rory shrugged. "Make it Chris Evans and I think we have a winner."

Lane rolled her eyes. "You have to decide. You can't keep sneaking out your bedroom window to come see me. You can't keep your mom on hold like this. Or your life on hold. If you eat anymore food you're going to OD on trans fats. And your mom isn't to stop feeding you until you tell her how she can help," Lane explained to her best friend, before standing and putting distance between them, as much distance as she could muster. "And I know you don't want to hear this, but you can't keep not calling Logan."

"Lane!" Rory shouted, throwing a pillow at her from across the room.

"See that's why I moved! That could have been a fist!"

"Okay, sorry, but you know what brain has yet to make me violent-"

Lane interjects, clearing her throat while holding up the pillow projectile.

"-more violent than I already was."

"Your words, not mine."

"Yeah, I know. This you know what is making me crazy."

They hold in silence as Steven and Kwan sneak from the room to the basement TV they're only supposed to watch one hour a day.

###

Rory climbs back into her first floor bedroom window, fall leaves tracking inside on the soles of her shoes.

"Hey, kid," Lorelai whispered as Rory jumped in fright.

She clutched her chest, her heart racing, her breath nearly gone.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" Lorelai asked, rushing from her place on Rory's bed and to her daughter's side.

"What was that?" Rory asked, speaking in stops and starts.

"You snuck out. I was doing the Mom thing," Lorelai told her as they sat on the edge of the bed together.

"I thought you would be asleep," Rory told her.

"At 7? Really, 7 o'clock?"

"Yeah, really. You've been so tired lately-"

"I've been tired? Tired?"

"Why do you keep doing that?" Rory asked.

"Doing what?"

"Answering me with questions. The same question. Twice. What is going on?"

"What's going on-

"Stop, Mom. Seriously."

"Where have you been?"

"I'm 32. I can come and go as I please."

"I never said you couldn't, but 32 year olds usually use the front door. I didn't think sneaking out would start until you were 55 at least."

Rory sighed, shaking her head, discouraged and confused and not sure of what to say.

"Tell me where you were."

"At Lane's," Rory answered.

"You snuck out to see Lane?" Lorelai questioned, her voice rising into suspicious territory.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I thought maybe you-"

"Snuck out to see Logan," Rory interjected.

"Something like that," Lorelai admitted in defeat. Her tough exterior was crumbling as fast as Rory's stomach was growing.

"It's only been three weeks, Mom. I just have to figure some things out and I can't do that with you hovering."

"I do not hover!" Lorelai shouted, her spirit crushed a little at the realization that she wouldn't always be considered the cool mom if this pregnancy refused to let up.

"You do. You are. I'm more full than I can ever remember being, which is saying a lot. And together we have seen every movie ever made, ever. Your Luke and Lorelai date nights have been replaced with mother-daughter couch time and-"

"What's wrong with mother-daughter couch time? You used to love that," Lorelai said, the hurt in her voice too noticeable for her liking.

"I still love it. Really. But you just got married and I don't want my thing to become your thing."

"Your thing is a baby. I think you win."

"I don't want to win!" Rory cried out.

After a moment of tension filled silence, Rory continued, "I don't know what I want, but I don't want this."

"What?" Lorelai asked, shocked.

"I don't want you to feed me and console me and spend all your time with and dote. Don't dote. I don't deserve doting."

"Don't deserve-" Lorelai began, but Rory continued, her words spilling out like water from a fountain.

"And I think I can decide for myself who to tell and when to tell them."

"Okay."

"So no pressure to call Logan or see Logan or speak about Logan."

"I wasn't-"

"I just need some time and space and then I will make a plan. Did you hear that Luke?!" Rory called. "I'm making a plan!"

"How did you know-"

"I need some air," Rory said, exhausted.

"You just came in from outside," Lorelai reminded her.

"Yeah, well, it's probably good for the baby, you know, fresh air and everything."

Rory stormed back to the window and slipped outside. Lorelai didn't stop her or even suggest the door. She knew she was hovering and she knew she was worrying too much and she knew they all needed a plan, but Rory's outburst made her think this craziness was something altogether different.

Oh, god, Lorelai thought, realizing who could help. Who would finally have to help if things were going to get better. "Luke!" she cried out and within a second Rory's bedroom door whipped open.

"What is it? What do you need?" Luke questioned, concern on his face.

"Can you call my mother? I just really don't want to have this conversation with her."

Luke sighed. "That was definitely not worth running here for."

###

"You making a break for it?" Jess asked as he came up on Rory stomping through the leaves, kicking a path away from her window.

Rory looked up, her eyes cresting with tears.

"Hey, hey," he said, rushing to her, his arms instinctively preparing to hold her, but in an instant she pulled away.

"What are you doing here?" Rory asked, embarrassed. She brought her hands to her face and quickly wiped her glassy eyes.

"I came to see Luke."

"I thought you left," she said.

"I did and then I came back."

Rory nodded, not sure what to make of his surprise appearance. She had gone four years without seeing him and now suddenly in the span of four months she'd seen him more times than she could count on both hands.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jess asked.

"I never said I was okay," she told him.

He smiled. "No, I guess you never did."

Suddenly the porch light flicked on, illuminating the side yard as the sun set behind the roof. Rory grabbed Jess' hand and ran behind Lorelai's Jeep, out of sight from any prying eyes.

"Whoa, hey! What are you doing?" he asked, after finding himself crouched on the cold ground beside her. "Are we hiding from Lorelai? Or Luke? Oh, god, what did Luke do?"

"We're hiding from me," she said, resigning herself to the fact that she had stormed out for "fresh air" without knowing where she was going, who she was going to see, or what she was going to do.

Jess waited for her to explain. "If I go back in there I have to make a plan."

"You love plans," he reminded her.

"Yes, normally there is nothing Rory Gilmore loves more than a good plan. But I'm not that Rory Gilmore anymore. I've done some pretty terrible things with people who- a person who should have known better. We both should have. And now I'm here and-"

"Is this about the book? I thought you had three chapters done. Lorelai's on board. I thought that was good," Jess questioned.

"It is. It was. It's just I thought I was writing about two Gilmore women. Maybe three. But now…"

Rory leaned on the Jeep, her back soaking up the coolness of the metal door, calming her flushed cheeks and numbing her shaking hands.

"Rory, what are you talking about?"

"Jess," she said, turning to look at him; she loved looking at him. She loved the way he was looking at her. But the plan had to start sometime. "Jess, I'm pregnant."

"Rory… is it mine?"