Disclaimer: Sad but true, I don't own the character. Otherwise there would have been way more story lines for her in the show! Oh, right, I don't own the show or anything else either. Just the idea is mine. But that should be enough.
Just a random moment that popped into my head and refused to leave unless I wrote it down.
Emily's gaze traced the outlines of the ice pattern on the window before she let it drift towards the snow-covered trees in the garden. Millions of tiny stars sparkled in the afternoon sun, creating what the librettists of the century had named a winter wonderland.
Her vision blurred as she remembered the times a small voice would sing along to the tunes, terribly off key. Blinking a few times, she took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself.
She used to love this weather. This time of the year. What had gone wrong?
"Mommy! Mommy!!" Her daughter came running into the sun room, bouncing up and down. "Can we go play outside?!"
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, making Emily wish she could just say yes.
Turning in her chair, she smiled sadly, "I'm sorry, honey, but the ladies of the DAR are going to be here in 30 minutes."
The little girl frowned. "The lady with the hairy face too?"
Emily tried hard to suppress the smile that tucked at the corners of her mouth, shaking her head. "Now, Lorelai, it's not nice to say something like that."
Reaching out, she brushed an errant lock of dark brown hair behind her daughter's ear.
Lorelai's big blue eyes lost their sparkle for a moment, "Sorry, Mommy."
Emily took her daughters hands, smiling mildly, "Just promise to not say it again." Seeing her nod, she bent forward and kissed her little girl's forehead.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
She didn't bother to brush it away. There was no one here to see it anyway. The house was empty.
Her husband was away on business, she had fired the maid right after breakfast, not able to stand the company of that dreadful woman for another second.
Now it was just her. Her and her loneliness.
Pressing her head against the cool glass, she didn't care if she would leave a mark on it.
She watched her breath as it formed a hazy pattern where it touched the window, trying hard to fight the coldness that had gripped her heart. She needed distraction; she needed something to occupy her mind. To take her thoughts off the past and back into the present.
Turning away from the window, she walked over to the small end table next to the couch, grabbed the phone, and pressed the speed dial.
Emily held the receiver to her ear, straightening up, looking sternly ahead.
Hearing the chipper voice on the other end of the line, she felt anger building up in the pit of her stomach. How she hated herself for being grateful about it.
Her voice was firm after the automatic message had finished, "Lorelai, it's your mother..."
Feedback is more than welcome! Flames will be used to grill marshmellows. :op
