Amy Robach and T.J. Holmes Had a Secret Arkansas Wedding — and Apparently No Room for Their Old ‘GMA’ Crew
The former morning-show couple quietly married Sept. 19, leaving some of Robach’s once-close ABC colleagues off the guest list as they turned a very public scandal into a very private milestone.
Amy Robach and T.J. Holmes have finally made it official — quietly, privately and with a guest list that seems to have drawn a line through their Good Morning America era.
According to Page Six, the former ABC News hosts married in a private ceremony in Washington County, Arkansas, on Sept. 19. The couple, who now host a podcast together, kept the wedding so tightly under wraps that even some of their closest confidantes reportedly did not know the full details. And while secrecy was clearly the mood, the most pointed detail is who apparently did not receive an invitation: their former “GMA” colleagues.
“Everyone was very close to Amy when she worked at ‘GMA3,’” a source told Page Six. “She’s lost touch with a lot of people from there since she left. People who would’ve been a part of a milestone for her years ago were not included.”
The guest list says more than a press release ever could
There is something almost elegantly ruthless about a wedding guest list that doubles as a career-era exit survey. Robach was once closely connected to the ABC News world, and she and Holmes were photographed alongside their colleagues during their time at the network. But after their relationship became the biggest story surrounding the show, the old workplace apparently stopped feeling like a natural part of the new life they were building.
That does not necessarily mean a ballroom full of former co-workers was expected. Weddings are intimate, expensive and often shaped by the complicated arithmetic of blended families, exes, friendships and professional history. But in this case, the omission lands with extra sparkle because the relationship itself became public through that very workplace.
The couple’s wedding was not just a private celebration. It was also a quiet closing chapter on the most chaotic period of their careers — one that began with morning-show chemistry and ended with both of them leaving the network.
From “GMA” chemistry to a national scandal
In November 2022, Robach and Holmes made headlines after photographs showed them looking notably close while both were still legally married. The images detonated the polished breakfast-TV fantasy: two familiar anchors, one workplace, and a romance that suddenly became impossible to keep in the background.
Both denied allegations of cheating at the time. Still, ABC took them off the air the following month while the network investigated the situation. In January 2023, ABC News announced that the pair would be leaving the network after “several productive conversations” about their future.
“We recognize their talent and commitment over the years and are thankful for their contributions,” then-ABC News President Kim Godwin said in the network’s statement.
It was the sort of corporate farewell that sounds gracious while making one thing unmistakable: the old professional arrangement was over. Robach and Holmes were no longer a morning-news duo navigating a personal scandal between commercial breaks. They were a couple navigating life outside the institution that had made them famous together.
The exes have their own plot twist
The wedding also arrives after a remarkable reshuffling of the relationships around them. Robach shares two daughters with Andrew Shue, whom she married in 2010 and divorced in 2023. Before Shue, she was married to Tim McIntosh from 1996 to 2009.
Holmes, meanwhile, has two children with his first wife, Amy Ferson, whom he married in 2004 and divorced in 2007. He was married to Marilee Fiebig from 2010 until 2023, and they share a daughter.
And because this story apparently refused to settle for one plot twist, Robach’s former husband and Holmes’ former wife have also embarked on a romance of their own and moved in together, according to Page Six. The result is less a standard celebrity breakup tree than a full relationship relaunch: former spouses pairing off, former colleagues being left behind and the original couple quietly upgrading from scandal-era podcast partners to husband and wife.
A private wedding for a famously public couple
Robach and Holmes have not publicly addressed the marriage, which is striking given how much of their relationship has unfolded under a media microscope. Their romance first became public through photographs, their exits from ABC were announced by the network, and their post-TV chapter has been built around a podcast bearing both of their names. Yet the wedding itself appears to have happened almost entirely offstage.
That privacy may be the point. Their relationship began in a professional environment where every glance could become a headline. The wedding, by contrast, seems to have been designed around control: Arkansas instead of a celebrity-heavy venue, a private ceremony instead of a televised spectacle, and a guest list that reportedly favored the life they have now over the one they left behind.
There is a particular kind of celebrity marriage that arrives with fireworks, drone footage and a suspiciously timed photo dump. This is not that. Robach and Holmes skipped the glossy rollout and went straight to the legal paperwork, leaving the public to learn about the union through a marriage license and a very revealing absence of invitations.
After years of being watched at work, they appear to have decided that the next chapter would belong to them first. The old “GMA” crew, it seems, did not make the cut.
Elisabeth Shue Just Reappeared on a Red Carpet Looking Like the Coolest Babysitter in Town
The Adventures in Babysitting icon made a rare public outing in a black rose-covered mini, bringing her ’80s movie-star energy back to Los Angeles.
There are celebrity appearances, and then there are Elisabeth Shue sightings: brief, glamorous disturbances in the pop-culture force field that make everyone remember exactly why they liked her in the first place.
Shue made one of those appearances at the Los Angeles premiere of Whalefall on Oct. 13, stepping onto the red carpet alongside castmates Austin Abrams, Josh Brolin and John Ortiz. The outing marked her first major red carpet appearance since the 2024 BAFTA Awards, where she attended with her husband, filmmaker Davis Guggenheim.
For an actress who has spent decades resisting the exhausting celebrity requirement to be constantly visible, the timing felt almost perfectly Shue. She did not arrive dressed like someone trying to manufacture a comeback. She arrived looking like someone who had wandered in from the best possible version of 1987.
The dress was pure Elisabeth Shue: part ’80s heroine, part downtown cool
Shue wore a short, long-sleeved black dress scattered with red roses, black sheer tights and platform strapped heels. Her blonde hair was parted down the middle and styled in loose, blown-out waves, keeping the beauty look simple enough to let the dress do the talking.
It was a grunge-adjacent look without the costume-store theatrics: romantic flowers, heavy black, a little rock ’n’ roll, and just enough platform to suggest that the babysitter has absolutely seen some things since the credits rolled. The outfit also made a neat visual bridge between the era that made Shue famous and the more grown-up, low-key career she has built since.
She posed for solo photographs and joined her Whalefall colleagues for group shots, giving the carpet the rare pleasure of a movie star who looks entirely comfortable being recognized without seeming hungry for attention. That distinction is increasingly scarce in an industry where every appearance can feel like a campaign launch, a soft announcement or a carefully timed attempt to dominate the group chat.
Chris Parker never really left the building
Shue has remained associated with a very specific kind of ’80s movie magic ever since she played Chris Parker in 1987’s Adventures in Babysitting. The film gave her a role that was funny, chaotic and unmistakably in charge: a teenage babysitter thrown into one increasingly unhinged night in Chicago, with the immortal command, “Don’t f–k with the babysitter.”
It is the kind of line that can swallow an actor whole. Instead, Shue has treated the film’s longevity with a mix of pride and amused disbelief. During a 2017 interview with HeyUGuys, she said she loved that the movie still held up, praising its pacing, comedy and the fact that a woman was at the center of the story for younger viewers to see.
She also shared a less polished family sequel to the catchphrase during a 2017 appearance on The Steve Harvey Show. Shue recalled that her father warned her not to say the line because children everywhere might decide it was acceptable to repeat. Years later, her own son watched the movie at two and a half and ran around the house saying it back to her.
That anecdote captures the strange afterlife of Adventures in Babysitting: a movie that began as a coming-of-age comedy and became a family’s recurring cultural in-joke. Shue is not trying to outrun that history. She seems to understand that being remembered as Chris Parker is not a trap when Chris Parker remains one of the most entertaining people in the room.
Rare does not mean absent
Although Shue has kept an intentionally lower public profile since her breakout, she has hardly disappeared from the work. In recent years, she appeared in The Boys and Gen V, adding her particular combination of warmth, steel and slightly dangerous cool to two of television’s most gleefully chaotic franchises.
That balance has always been part of her appeal. Shue can read as approachable, but never bland; polished, but never overly managed. Her career has moved through teen classics, serious dramas, studio films and television without requiring her to perform a permanent version of herself for the public. Even her biggest roles tend to feel like chapters rather than a single brand strategy.
Her family life has also remained largely outside the celebrity content machine. Shue and Guggenheim share three children, and the pair’s 2024 BAFTA appearance was itself notable partly because it offered such a rare glimpse of the actress at a major industry event. She has never seemed interested in turning every personal milestone into a photo opportunity, which makes each public outing feel more like an actual appearance and less like an obligation to the algorithm.
That scarcity is part of the charm. A celebrity who appears everywhere eventually becomes background noise. Shue, by contrast, can show up once, wear a black dress with red roses, stand beside Josh Brolin and make an entire generation remember the exact tone of a movie they watched too young.
At 63, she is not chasing the past so much as carrying it lightly. The red carpet look nodded to the decade that made her famous, but the larger message was more modern: Elisabeth Shue does not need to be constantly seen to remain completely recognizable. Sometimes all it takes is one rare outing, one excellent dress and the sudden realization that the coolest babysitter in movie history still knows how to make an entrance.
Kylie Kelce Has a Nanny, Not a 24/7 Parenting Substitute—and She Wants That Distinction Very Clear
On Michelle Obama and Craig Robinson’s podcast, the mother of four explained the Kelce family’s workday childcare setup, why the grandparents are essential and why “raising our kids void of us” is not the plan.
The Kelce family may have Super Bowl-level logistics, but Kylie Kelce is not pretending four children, two busy careers and a household with approximately a thousand moving parts can be managed by vibes alone.
On an episode of IMO with Michelle Obama and Craig Robinson, Kylie offered a refreshingly unglossy look at the childcare arrangement she shares with husband Jason Kelce: yes, they have a nanny. No, that nanny is not living in the house, working around the clock or quietly becoming the children’s third parent while the adults breeze through their schedules.
“We do have a nanny,” Kylie said. “I always give a shout out because we couldn’t do it without her.” Then came the qualification that will sound familiar to any parent who has ever tried to explain paid childcare without inviting a courtroom debate from strangers online: “We have her during regular work hours and really nothing outside of that.”
In other words, the Kelce household has help—but it also has boundaries, grandparents and a firm belief that the parents should remain visibly, actively in the picture.
The nanny works business hours. The Kelces work the whole celebrity-industrial complex.
Kylie, 34, and Jason, 38, are raising four daughters: Wyatt, 7, Elliotte, 5, Bennett, 3, and Finnley, who is 18 months old. That is not a family calendar; that is an air-traffic-control situation.
Jason is a retired Philadelphia Eagles star whose post-football life includes media work and the kind of public profile that follows a Kelce anywhere. Kylie hosts the Not Gonna Lie podcast and has become a familiar, outspoken presence in her own right. Their family exists in the peculiar zone where a routine school pickup can collide with a podcast taping, a game-day appearance, a major family event or a camera crew waiting for a quote.
So the nanny comes in during regular work hours. What she does not do, according to Kylie, is provide live-in, around-the-clock care. “We don’t necessarily want a live-in nanny or someone who’s going to be raising our kids void of us,” she said. “That feels weird.”
It is a pointed distinction, especially from a celebrity family whose lifestyle could easily support a small domestic staff. Kylie is not presenting help as a failure, and she is not presenting unlimited help as the ultimate luxury. She is describing childcare as infrastructure: necessary, practical and designed to make the parents more present, not less.
For the Kelce girls, the family childcare network is very much a group project
The after-hours plan is less mansion-staff fantasy and more extremely well-connected family group chat. Kylie said her parents, Lisa McDevitt and Ed McDevitt, live 15 minutes away and “have helped us in every way imaginable.” Jason’s parents, Ed Kelce and Donna Kelce, are also part of the family orbit.
That detail matters because the Kelces are not simply outsourcing parenting and calling it a day. They are building a village around the children that includes professional care during the workday and grandparents who remain close enough to be part of ordinary life.
Kylie framed that closeness as a value she wants her daughters to experience, not just a convenience that happens to be available. She talked about driving past a shop and being able to tell the girls, “Oh, that was where Mom’s first job was.” The goal, she explained, is to give them a sense of place: nostalgia, community and the responsibility that comes with feeling connected to the people around you.
That is a very different family portrait from the glossy celebrity default, where children appear as accessories in a carefully edited lifestyle. Kylie’s version is more rooted: grandparents nearby, local memories, regular work hours and parents who still want to be the ones doing the actual raising.
Four daughters, one carefully protected public childhood
The family’s approach to visibility has shifted as the Kelce profile has exploded. Kylie has spoken about stopping the regular posting of her daughters on social media, a choice that lands differently now that every Kelce family moment can become instant internet content.
There have still been glimpses: the girls on the football field, birthday celebrations at the Eagles’ home turf, Halloween costumes and family snapshots. Jason once shared his oldest daughters admiring the Larry O’Brien Trophy in the house; Kylie joked about bringing the children to Rita’s and obstacle courses after practice. The images are warm and domestic, but they do not turn the girls into a full-time reality show.
That restraint is particularly notable given the family’s current pop-culture altitude. Jason’s brother Travis Kelce married Taylor Swift in July, according to the source, making the extended family even more recognizable than it was during the brothers’ Super Bowl showdown in 2023. The Kelce daughters are growing up inside one of the most photographed family ecosystems in American entertainment, while their mother is trying to preserve something that resembles a childhood rather than a content strategy.
It helps explain why Kylie’s nanny comments feel less like a household footnote and more like a statement about the kind of public family she is trying to build. The childcare is professional, but the emotional labor is meant to stay personal. The grandparents are nearby. The daughters know where their parents came from. And the adults, despite their schedules, are not interested in disappearing behind the machinery of their own success.
There is no dramatic scandal in the arrangement—just a celebrity mother saying the quiet part out loud: having help is not the same thing as handing over your family. For the Kelces, the flex is not a live-in staff or an endless parade of caretakers. It is making a four-child household work while keeping the parents, grandparents and community firmly in the frame.