4 years later…
Logan pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine of his porsche. "You ready?" he asked.
Rory nodded her head, pulling her wool mittens over her hands. "You?" she asked.
"This is the easy part. She'll be genuinely happy for us."
"Mom and Dad will be too," she assured him.
"Lorelai, yes—Christopher I'm not so sure about. He hasn't been so keen on me since he found out our relationship was not so platonic anymore."
Rory laughed. "He was grilling steaks for dinner and he threatened you with the pitch fork if you dared to deflower me before the wedding."
"Well, I technically kept that promise."
"That you did," she patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "You can't take something that isn't there anymore, after all."
"Shoosh you," he admonished. "Let's go."
"Hold on," she stopped him, leaning over the seat to wrap his cashmere scarf tighter around his neck. "And button up the rest of your jacket, it's freezing outside."
"Yes, mom," he rolled his eyes sarcastically.
Rory gasped. "Don't you dare compare me to Shira Huntzberger."
"Weeeell…" Logan started.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, mister," she warned him.
"Fine, fine," he relented, opening his door and stepping out of the car, pulling a bouquet of flowers with him. He made his way around to Rory's side and let her out. She stepped out into the parking lot, and immediately wrapped her mittened hand around his free one as they started to walk towards the gate of the cemetery. They made their way quietly through the path until they reached the grave site they were looking for.
"Hi Honor," Rory waved a small yet spastic wave at the headstone.
"Hi sis," Logan added, slightly more somber than his companion. "We have really good news to share with you." He turned to Rory.
"Go on," she urged him, gripping his hand reassuringly. "You should tell her."
He nodded. "Alright." He turned back to his sister's grave. "You see, last night…last night I asked Rory to marry me—and she said yes," he smiled at the memory. It had been an amazing night. He had spent hours cooking her dinner and he had decorated the apartment with lights and flowers and candles and they had made love in front of the fire. It was all ridiculously cliché, but it had been perfect nonetheless.
"You know I've always thought of you as a sister, Honor, and I think you feel the same, but now we get to be sisters for real," Rory smiled brightly. "I just wish you could be here to see it."
"You're the first person we've told," Logan informed her. "I thought you deserved that, seeing as you helped us finally get together."
"The book is still on the best-seller list, by the way," Rory interrupted. Rory and Logan had sent the book to several publishing houses and it had been a hit.
"Anyhow," Logan continued, "no one else knows yet. I didn't even tell Colin and Finn I was planning it, although Finn was acting a bit suspicious when I asked him to watch Mohawk last night so I could have a romantic night with my girl," Logan smirked. Rory had gotten him a yellow lab puppy with a strange tuft of hair for his birthday two years ago.
"I wanted to ask you a favor," Rory added softly. "I want to use your designs for the dresses. They're beautiful, and this way, a part of you could share the day with us. We promise to name our first born after you," she added sheepishly.
"Our first born girl," Logan added. "No offense sis, but if we named a son after you, he'd be sure to get beat up on a regular basis.
"Logan," Rory scolded.
"Well it's true, Ace," he defended. "Honor is not a good name for a boy."
"There's still a thing called tact," she mumbled.
"Oh please," Logan scoffed. "Honor doesn't care about that. She knows we love her." He bent down to put the flowers on her grave, and Rory joined him.
"We love you, Honor," Rory repeated, touching the snow covered ground softly. They stayed there for a few minutes, each saying their silent words to the woman who had meant so much to them both. So much had changed in their lives over the past several years, but in the end, they were all still family.