Chapter 12

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Wednesday, December 4, 1985

Thanksgiving had come and gone the week before, bringing below average temperatures for Connecticut. Lorelai had been working as a maid for about a month and a half and was already doing better than her coworkers. No matter how menial the chore, she gave her all to cleaning the rooms. Mia took notice and, one afternoon, she called Lorelai into her office.

After they both took seats, Mia spoke. "Lorelai, I called you in because I wanted to tell you that you are doing a superb job."

"Thank you, Mia."

"No, thank you, dear. I have gotten numerous compliments on the cleanliness of the rooms lately and when I check who cleaned it, it was inevitably you."

Lorelai smiled, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "I appreciate that. I'm trying my hardest to do a great job."

"You are certainly succeeding! If you keep this up, you're going to wind up taking over the inn and will push me to an early retirement."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I can't be doing any better than Maude or Linda or—"

Mia shook her head. "But you are. All of the maids in my employ are great but you top them all. I have taken it upon myself to walk rooms that the others cleaned, then compare it to how your rooms look. To the untrained eye, they look basically the same. However, I notice small differences. Their beds are presentable but yours are pristine. Bathrooms sparkle after you've been there. Your floors are spotless. I just don't see your level of work with the others—even the ones who are double your age!"

"I'm happy you're happy, Mia. I really need this job."

"All of this has caused me to question something."

Lorelai's heart fell. She didn't like the sound of this. "What do you mean?"

"You've been here for a little shy of two months. We've talked on several occasions about your home life before ran away. But we've never discussed you making any sort of contact with your parents."

"I can't contact them. I thought for sure they'd come running after me but they didn't. They let me go without a care in the world."

"You don't know that, Lorelai. I bet your leaving was hard on them."

"You are giving the Gilmores too much credit."

Mia pursed her lips. "I'm not sure about that."

Lorelai felt like Mia was keeping something from her but she had no idea what it could be. "Why?"

"As a mother, I have a hunch that your parents' hearts were broken when they realized you'd gone without a word."

"It wasn't without a word—I left a note."

Shaking her head, Mia shifted papers on her desk. "Not the same thing, dear."

"Are you suggesting I go back home?"

"Not at all. I cannot know the true pain you've endured and I will not pretend to know what I would have done in your situation. I can only judge things based on what you've told me and how I'd feel as a mother."

"Then what are you saying?"

Mia opened a desk drawer and pulled out a card. "This was delivered to me today." She handed it across the desk.

When Lorelai's eyes fell on the Gilmore's invitation to their annual Christmas party, Mia's talk made sense. "You think I should go to the party."

"I do. I gather by the fanciness of the invitation that your parents must host a large, formal party. It would be the perfect opportunity to break the ice and make contact without too many expectations."

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