November 18, 1986. It wasn't a holiday or a close friend's birthday. There wasn't a big wedding or other function I'd prepared for weeks for that would finally pop up on that date. In fact, when I woke up that morning I'd never have imagined that that day would be forever engrained in my memory, both its date and its happenings. It is the day that's constantly reminding me that any ordinary day, a day you least expect to be special or even good, can change your life forever.

It started just exactly like every other day. I woke up at seven thirty, complained to myself about having to get up, got dressed for work, made myself coffee and something to eat, and got in my car to drive to work in considerably lower spirits than usual.

My son, John, was a business major at the University of Connecticut. He had been planning on taking his week-long Thanksgiving break and coming home, but the night before he had called me to tell me that he'd been offered a week-long internship for the same week. It was a fantastic opportunity for him, and I'd told him to accept, but still I was disappointed that I'd have to spend Thanksgiving alone. At that point it had been almost five years since my husband had passed away, and I didn't have any family besides John that lived in the general area.

I pulled into the parking lot behind one of my favorite places in the world, the Independence Inn, although that day I hardly noticed its charm. I got to work and almost immediately started dealing with customers, maintenance people, maids, parking attendants, linen deliveries and other assorted things that the owner of a successful inn tends to have to deal with on a daily basis.

I've always been very in touch with people. I seem to be able to tell what a person is thinking or feeling at times without them voicing a word of it. I suppose that's why I was so successful at my job. I had always known I wouldn't be able to own and manage the inn forever, but had sometimes worried about what would happen to it when I moved on with my life. I was always outwardly very modest, but inwardly I knew my talent, and I knew that I didn't know of anyone else that would be capable of doing everything I did in my position.

The most capable person I knew of was my concierge, Lisa. She was a very kind person, and was very skilled at keeping people happy. She often handled customer calls that I couldn't take, and handled them every bit as well as even I could. I had always known she could never manage though, whatever happened, because she wasn't good in leadership positions. She liked to be told what to do, not to tell others what they should do.

The moment I walked in that morning I knew that Lisa wasn't feeling well, although she didn't say anything. I asked her about it later that afternoon. "Lisa, darling, you look tired. Are you feeling alright?"

She waved it off. "Thanks Mia, but I'm fine, I just didn't get back until late last night. You know Shell had to come in late, so I covered for him until he could get here."

Our night manager, Shell, lived almost an hour north the inn. It was almost November, but it had been abnormally cold for the past week or so. The day before it had been warm enough to rain near where Shell lived, but it had gotten cold again shortly before he'd had had to leave, and the roads near his house had been icy. By the time he'd been able to get to work, he'd been almost two hours late.

"Yes, I know, but you look more than tired. You don't look like you feel well."

"I'm fine, Mia," Lisa said.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay." I didn't believe her, but I accepted the fact that she wasn't going to tell me anything different. I inwardly wondered if it was a hangover that was bothering her, as that wasn't the sort of thing you'd admit to your boss, particularly if your boss was an old-fashioned forty-nine year old lady. I knew how people viewed me. They saw me as very proper, the sort of person that would be offended by the very idea of excessive drinking or even celebrating. They didn't know me as well as they thought. Looking at Lisa though, I doubted that idea had any substance to it, no pun intended.

A few hours passed as they always did while I was working, with me not getting nearly as much done as I would have liked. I went back into the lobby to check something on one of the forms I'd left behind the front desk, and my heart immediately went out to the woman I saw with her head propped up on her arm, leaning on the desk. The sight of her flushed face completely ruled out the hangover option. "Lisa, honey, you're going home," I said as I walked into the lobby.

Lisa sounded like she was half-asleep. "Mia, I'm fine, it's just a headache, I really don't need to go home."

"Yes you do. Don't worry, I can handle the desk."

"I'll be fine, Mia. You don't worry about me."

"Yes darling, you will be fine, at your house, in your bed. Not here at my desk." My tone and face softened from stern and commanding to motherly and soft. "And apparently I have to worry about you, as you don't seem particularly concerned about yourself. When you're sick it isn't time to work, it's time to go home. Consider it the end of your shift."

"But Shell isn't here to take over."

"I've told you I can handle the desk. Out now, please."

Lisa moaned as someone who'd been defeated, stood up lazily and got her coat. "You're sure?" she asked me.

"Absolutely. Out," I commanded. As she walked through the door, I added in the same commanding tone, "And get better."

I was actually happy for the change of pace, although I felt horribly for Lisa. I hated to see people get sick. I, however, hadn't checked people in or wrote down reservations in far too long. I'd always sort of liked working the front desk, it was an odd sort of pleasure of mine. As it turns out, this particular day was the perfect day to be manning the desk. It seems to me that my working the desk that day was fate.

Fate it was that brought the girl into the lobby not two hours after I assumed my station at the front desk. I'll never forget the image of the tall, teenage girl walking into my inn, long, dark hair blowing every which way, carrying a large suitcase in one hand and a baby carrier in the other. She walked right up to the desk and dropped the suitcase onto the floor. I was concerned for a moment that she'd drop the baby carrier to the ground with the same amount of force, but that she set down gently.

"I need a job and a place to stay." That was what she had said. Just like that. No reason, no formality, no question, just a statement.

I had no idea how to respond. My mind was full of questions, but no answers. "Could you wait here for a moment?" I finally asked the girl.

Her answer was sarcastic and could have been viewed as rude. "Does it look like I have anywhere else to go?" she said loudly, with an exaggerated hand gesture.

I frowned, then nodded to the girl and went through the door behind the desk that led to the kitchen. Although it might have been a strange choice, my kitchen staff was the most readily accessible. "David?" I said, addressing my chef. "Could you spare one of your kitchen staff for a while? Something's come up… actually a multitude of things have come up and I need someone to man the front desk."

"Absolutely. Everything alright?"

I looked up at the ceiling, unsure how to answer that question. "It will be," I soon settled on.

"Alyson, go."

"Thank you so much, David."

"Hey, Mia, it's no problem," he said sincerely.

I smiled appreciatively. "Okay, now Alyson," I said, walking back out to the lobby with the sous chef, "Answer phone, talk to people. Check in book's here, reservation book's here. Need anything, I'll be in room seven. You," I said, pointing directly at the girl, not concerned with appearing rude, "follow me."

I came off so authoritatively that she followed without questioning. I lead her upstairs to an empty guest room with two double beds. It had already been cleaned, but my maids would have to forgive me. I sat down on the inner edge of one of the beds, facing the other bed, and motioned at the other bed. The girl took the hint and sat down facing me. She'd lugged her suitcase and baby carrier upstairs with her, having had nothing else to do with it. She'd left the suitcase by the door, but the baby carrier was sitting on the bed beside her. I stood up to look in and saw a little girl sleeping in the baby carrier.

"Precious," I said smiling, looking at the baby.

The girl smiled sweetly. "I know, isn't she?"

"How old?" I asked.

"Thirteen months."

"I assume she's yours." Considering the way the girl was traveling, it was the only logical conclusion.

"You assume right."

I tried to smile again at the girl, but this time it wasn't quite as genuine. I sighed. "You asked me for a job and a place to stay. I can give you a place to stay for the night, we do have an empty room. Now, again I assume that you don't have much money."

"And again you assume right. You're good at this game."

I sighed. I wasn't sure I should do this, but the possibility of getting in trouble with my boss wasn't a likely one, considering I was my own boss, so I went ahead with it. "For the night I won't charge you for the room, but you'll have to make it up yourself when you're finished with it. Check in is at three, so the room will have to be ready for the next guest by two-thirty. I get here at eight thirty or nine normally, so we'll sort out the details tomorrow." I paused, realizing I'd overlooked a rather important detail. I smiled at my mistake. "Now, before we get any further, we should introduce ourselves, shouldn't we? My name is Mia St. Marshall, and I own and manage this inn."

"Wow," the girl said, "I picked the right person to bargain with."

I raised my eyebrows. "As yet, we haven't done any bargaining."

"As yet," she said pointedly. "My name's Lorelai Gilmore, and this is Rory Gilmore," she looked at the baby carrier and smiled. "She's in the middle of her afternoon nap. Taking it a little late today, but making this a lot easier."

I smiled at the baby. She really was adorable. "How old are you, Lorelai?"

"Seventeen."

I closed my eyes for a moment, considering. Seventeen. She wasn't yet technically an adult, but seventeen was certainly old enough to make your own decisions. If she were even a year younger, I most likely would have sent her home. But she was seventeen, and obviously considering the circumstances, few of which I knew, she was inwardly much older than that. "Okay," I finally said. "Is it only for tonight that you need a place to stay?" I thought I knew the answer, but I had to ask her anyway.

"No, no, we need a place to really stay. To live, really. I don't have nearly enough money to buy a house, or even rent an apartment, but I thought if I could figure something out temporarily, I could get a job and maybe earn enough for an apartment… eventually."

"I'm going to venture a guess that you just left home."

"This morning."

"Do you have everything squared away with your parents? Because if you ran away, chances are they'll come looking. You're old enough to make your own decisions, but you don't want to constantly be hiding from your parents., not to mention anyone they might send searching."

"I left a note. I call every now and then and leave a message so they know we're safe. My dad tried to come get me and bring me home while we were eating lunch, but I wouldn't go. They get that I'm pretty much out of their control now. I did make a deal with my father that if I couldn't find a semi-permanent place to stay in a week, I'd come home. If I don't find a place for us to stay by then, I'll be out of money anyway, so I won't have much choice but to go back to my parents' house. I really, really don't want to do that, though," she said dramatically.

I thought for another long moment. "I'm a very honest woman, Lorelai," I said finally, "And when I say that I'll do everything I can to look into finding you a place to stay, I mean it. And I will, because although I barely know you, I like you. I don't know why, but I do, and I am an excellent judge of character." I smiled at her, and she smiled back. She had a beautiful smile. "As for a job, I can always use an extra maid. We'll figure out the particulars tomorrow, after I get a chance to invent at least a few of them." I smiled at my own partial joke.

"That easy?" she asked. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but wow."

I laughed. "That easy."