AN- Here is the much wanted sequel of Christmas Miracles. Please read that story first if you haven't already. Second, this story is in a different style than Miracles, the chapters are, so far, shorter and more themed, like a series of vignettes telling the story.

- Amber is now about sixteen

Sometimes you need to wallow

Rory lounged on the large leather couch in the sitting room of a new, larger apartment she shared with her family in the New York suburbs reading a worn copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, but a series of noises distracted her from her reading.



A loud swear.






Rory reluctantly got up to investigate. She went down the hallway, spying a broken vase on the floor next to a table, to her daughter's bedroom door and knocked on it.

"Honey, are you okay."

"Fine," Amber answered roughly.

Rory raised an eyebrow, "That doesn't sound too convincing."

"I'm fine," repeated Amber, though this time her voice wavering and sad.

Rory checked the doorknob, and finding that it was unlocked opened it slowly and peered in to see Amber lying on her bed in jeans and a white tank top holding a pillow in her arms.

Rory sat on the bed next to Amber and stroked her hair, "What's the matter."

Amber screwed up her face in attempt to keep tear from falling, "Me and Brandon broke up."

"Oh, honey. Why?"

"He…we just did." Rory decided not to push. She knew that look on Amber's face, the one that said she didn't want to talk about it. It was the same face Rory had worn when she had broken up with Dean the first time.

"Are you okay?"

Amber shrugged.

Rory smacked herself on the forehead, "Of course you're not okay. You just broke up with your boyfriend. You need to wallow."

"Wallow?" asked Amber confused.

"Yes, wallow. Eat ice cream and pizza while watching really sad movies and having a good cry."

"And this works?" Amber asked skeptically.

"It is a sure fire way to get over anyone that is not the one in a matter of a several hours, some junk food, and girl time."

"I guess I can try it."

"Come on, then," said Rory, grabbing Amber's hand and pulling her off the bed and sent her to the living room to pick out sad movies.

Amber scrounged the shelves of movies, whether borrowed, rented, owned, or taped off television, feeling rather silly. Many times had she helped pick out movies for marathons, but never ones to intentionally make her sad.

A homemade white label caught her eye and Amber pulled an old tape off the bottom shelf.

Rory entered a few minutes later with a large tube of chocolate ice cream, "You ready? Pizza's on the way."

Amber nodded, "I thought we'd start with the 1960's version of Romeo and Juliet followed by The Notebook, and afterwards if were up to it, Titanic."

"Going for the tragic love stories?"

Amber nodded biting her bottom lip. The two sat down on the couch and began the marathon.

Barely ten minutes later silent tears were running down Amber's face. They weren't from the movie.

Rory placed a pillow on her lap for Amber to lie down on. She stroke a strand of her daughter's hair behind her ear over and over again whispering gently, "It's okay, baby. It's okay to cry."

Though Rory sounding confident and reassuring for Amber, inside she was hurting to see her daughter in so much pain.

"It's all going to be okay," Rory said repeatedly as Amber broke into sobs.

And though Amber wasn't thinking about it at the time, she was glad her mother was here for this.