A Meaningful Life
From the sound of things, the staff was finished cleaning up after the party. It was getting late and he would have to be getting to bed soon. He would have to face his wife and somehow make amends to her.
Richard fingered his glass as he thought about what had happened. Oh, what an awful night. He had been upset for days over the situation with Rory. They had paved the way for her to turn away from her dreams, and she was headed in the wrong direction. They had let her down, and it was all his fault.
And now he had hurt Emily. He had made the wife he adored feel like he didn't value her. He hadn't meant to do so. Sure, he was frustrated with her for being so focused on the party when they had a crisis on their hands. She didn't seem to understand the seriousness of the situation, and he had lashed out at her. Then, with a few too many glasses of scotch in his system, he had said things he didn't mean to say. Without intending to hurt her, he had belittled his wife's life. He couldn't get that hurt look in her eyes out of his mind.
He would have to figure out how to repair the situation with Rory, and he had no idea how to go about it. It was certainly going to take some time. But tonight, he had to make things right with his wife. He would have to find a way to let her know that he was sorry and that he didn't mean what he had said. But with his head still so foggy from the scotch, it would be hard for him to say clearly what he felt.
It couldn't wait any longer, though. It was time to go up and face his wife. He set his nearly empty glass on the end table, got up to leave the office, and headed upstairs.
-/-/-
When he opened the door to the bedroom, he could hear the shower running in the bathroom. She was getting ready for bed. What would he say to her? He would have to find a way to let her know how truly sorry he was.
It couldn't be that difficult, could it? After all, she had to know how much he loved her, how much he valued and respected her. After all they had been through together and what they had meant to each other, she had to know that. She couldn't really believe he viewed her life as meaningless. But she was hurt. He had hurt her deeply this time. And rather than allow herself to feel pain, she tended to turn her pain to anger and then she would shut him out emotionally. Somehow he would have to break through that and make her understand what he really felt.
Richard sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped slightly, and waited for her to come out of the bathroom.
-/-/-
Emily let the water run over her face. It was so hard to stop sobbing. She hated when she broke down like this, but after keeping her feelings under control all evening, she just couldn't hold it in any longer. It felt like her whole life was falling apart. She knew that Lorelai didn't think much of her life. But now Richard, the one person she thought she could count on for love and support, the one person she thought knew her so well and loved her for who she was, had called her life frivolous and meaningless. He had insulted her very existence.
It was so overwhelming. What was her place in this family now? She had always known her role in the family, but now it almost seemed like she had no place in it at all. Her daughter tried to avoid her. Her granddaughter was starting to act distantly toward her. And now, the man she loved so much, the person she had devoted her life to, had said he thought her life wasn't worthwhile. What could she do? How could she fix this? She had no idea what to do, but she would have to decide something, because the way things were going, she couldn't continue to live this way.
Well, whatever she did, she couldn't let him see her like this. He couldn't see how much this was tearing her apart.
-/-/-
When he heard the bathroom door open, Richard straightened up and looked toward Emily, ready to apologize. "Emily …" he said gently.
Emily was startled to see him and halted in the bathroom doorway. She wondered what he was planning to say but decided it probably wasn't that he was sorry. After all, if he didn't mean what he had said in the office, he wouldn't have let her leave the room without at least trying to apologize. At any rate, an encounter with him was too risky. The wound was still very fresh, and no matter what he said, she was likely to break down in front of him. Storming across the room, she announced, "I'm going to sleep in the guest room!"
"What?!" His eyes widened in shock as he rose to his feet.
"I'll be in the room directly across from Rory," she stated, trying not to let her voice betray the emotion she was feeling.
His shock turned to anger. "Emily, don't be ridiculous!"
"I cannot sleep in the same bed with a man who thinks my life is frivolous and meaningless!" she replied, her frustration building.
"You know I didn't mean it!" he protested.
"It certainly sounded like you meant it!" She stormed out the door, as he watched, both stunned and concerned. She must really be angry this time. But this had to be fixable. Somehow there had to be a way for him to make things right.
Should he go after her? When she was this angry, trying to talk to her was usually the worst thing to do. She'd simply shut down emotionally, and then nothing he said would get through to her. But if he just let her walk out of the room without trying to make things right, it might be too late to fix things later. She had never gotten angry enough to sleep in a separate room before. Not until the separation. Oh, God, that couldn't be happening again!
-/-/-
Her hands shook slightly as she tried to open the door to the guest room. She was so upset, she could hardly control them. Finally getting the door open, she flipped on the light. The room seemed so empty without Richard. But she couldn't sleep in their bedroom; she really had no choice. If she had stayed, he probably would have continued to treat her as if she was insignificant, and it was just getting to be too hard to live with. With her anger beginning to subside, the sadness and pain were creeping back in.
What was he thinking about right now? Maybe he was regretting having said those things to her. Or maybe he just regretted making her angry. She hoped he was telling the truth when he said that he didn't mean those words, but she doubted it. It wasn't the first time he had talked about her life in that way. And that wasn't the only sign that he didn't respect her as much as he once had. As badly as she wanted to believe he still valued her like he had in the past, it just didn't seem likely.
Emily crawled into bed and turned off the light. The sheets felt cold and crisp against her skin. It was lonely sleeping in a different bed without her husband on the other side. And it brought back awful memories. This was not going to be easy to get used to, and she had no idea how long it would last. She wasn't sure what the future would hold, and that thought frightened her.
Richard walked up to the guest room, paused, and raised his hand to knock on the door. He stopped, his hand in midair, wondering if he should approach her just yet. He wanted to talk to her, apologize for insulting her, and tell her he hadn't meant it. It had been two days since the incident in his office, and they had hardly spoken to each other. He hadn't apologized yet, hoping she would get past her anger enough for him to approach her safely. But she was still furious, and for the third night she was sleeping in the guest room. Should he try to talk to her now? He wasn't sure she would be at all receptive to him. But if she was waiting for him to apologize, then delaying it might only make things worse.
He decided to wait awhile longer to see if things might start to get better. Richard walked in to their bedroom, crossed the room to their closet, and went to change into his pajamas. Walking to the other end of the dressing room, he glanced to his side and noticed that her half of the closet was empty. Her clothes were gone! What was going on? Had she moved them out? He started to panic and marched to the guest room where she was staying.
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to get his emotions under control, he knocked on the door. "Emily. May I come in?"
She was startled by the sound of his voice, and her head snapped up. Why did he want to come in? Had he come to apologize to her? To argue with her for moving to the guest room? Not knowing why he was there worried her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to face him. She longed to hear him say he didn't mean what he had said. That he thought her life was important and he loved her. But he might be there to criticize her again, or to try to convince her she was being unreasonable and should just act like nothing had happened. She wouldn't do that, though. He had hurt her too much, and she couldn't just let it go and continue to live as they had been for months now. Oh, if only she could figure out what was going through his mind! She sighed. Well, there was only one way to find out. "It's open."
He opened the door and stepped inside. She was sitting on the chaise across the room with a book in her lap. The light from the table lamp shone on her beautiful red hair, but her face was in silhouette.
Emily tried to determine from his expression if he was still upset with her, but his face was hard to read. "Emily, did you move your clothes out of our dressing room?" he asked, struggling to keep the worry out of his voice.
She set her book on the end table. "Yes," she answered, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
His eyes widened. "Why?"
"I thought it would be better for me to change in here, instead of going into your bedroom everyday," she responded, struggling to keep her voice firm and unattached.
"My bedroom? Emily . . ." he stammered, his voice shaking slightly. "Did you move out of our room permanently?!"
"I don't know," she stated quietly, looking down slightly.
"What do you mean you don't know?!" He took a few steps toward her. His tone had been harsher than he intended, and Emily looked up at him pointedly.
"I know I can't sleep in the same room with you right now!" she snapped.
"So, what are you going to do? Live in this room forever?" he asked. His forceful tone betrayed his growing fear.
"Richard, I don't know!" she insisted, growing impatient.
"Why just move out of the room? Why not out of the house?!" he countered. His intended sarcasm sounded more like a demand, and he regretted it immediately.
Her eyes widened. "Is that what you want?!"
"You know it's not!" he protested.
"What difference does it make to you anyway, Richard?! I'm frivolous, remember?" she spouted, the anger evident in her face. "All I do is chatter on and on about DAR parties and shopping. I drag you to frivolous functions and interrupt your precious reading time with meaningless conversation! What do you care where I live?" She hadn't meant to imply that she might really move out, but she was starting to lose control of her temper.
"You don't really mean you might move out?" he asked, starting to feel the panic rising again. He was worried that she hadn't really denied the possibility.
"Richard, all I know is that I can't stay in that room with you right now!" she replied, her anger building.
Oh, God. She couldn't really be thinking of leaving him again. She was just angry; it had to be that. He couldn't lose her again! Richard struggled to keep his panic under control as he moved forward to sit down next to her. As he did, she stiffened, looking straight ahead. "Emily, please … can't we just discuss this?" he pleaded.
She looked at him. "What is there to discuss? You see me my life as frivolous! And you have felt that way for years."
He turned toward her. "No …"
"Oh, yes. This isn't the first time you've used that word. You've called me frivolous in the past," she asserted, standing up and spinning around to face him. "And you treat me that way, too. You don't see me as an equal, and you don't treat me like your partner anymore."
"How can you say that?!" he protested, his tone angry and incredulous.
"Richard, when was the last time you consulted with me when you had a problem?" she asked pointedly, turning and taking a couple of steps away from him. "You never do that anymore. You just isolate yourself from me and act like I don't have a clue about anything." She continued, the sadness showing through the anger in her voice.
He stood up. "That's not true!" he snapped, following her.
She forcefully turned to face him once again. "Did you tell me about the fire at the Dragonfly?"
"No, I didn't," he admitted quietly.
"That's right," she declared, her arm dropping forcefully to her side. "I found out by accident. And then when I asked you about it, you were very impatient with me and didn't want to waste your time talking to me about it." Richard looked down, ashamed of his behavior.
"And it was the same thing with Rory," Emily continued, gesturing animatedly. "You didn't tell me you were worried about her. You just isolated yourself in that office of yours for days and didn't tell me why! It wasn't until I went in to ask you to come out to the party that you said anything, and then all you did was yell at me for not knowing what was going on."
Emily paced once in front of him and then turned toward him again. "And it's like that with everything, Richard. You never come to me with your concerns anymore. You just lock yourself away in your office and treat me like I don't have a clue in the world about things that are important. You act like you don't even want to spend time with me anymore." Emily looked down, her anger beginning to give way to sadness and resignation.
"What?! That's not true!" Richard protested, unable to believe his wife could feel that way.
"Yes, it is," she insisted. "We used to spend time with each other. But now you spend all of your evenings either holed up in your office or glued to a book."
"You know I love to read! I always have," he countered, his tone a little defensive.
"Yes, I know that. You've always been well-read, and that's something I love about you. But it's every night now, Richard." she uttered, the sadness evident in her voice. "If you're not in your office all evening, you're reading from the time we finish dinner until we go to bed. And if I try to speak with you, if I am presumptuous enough to want to interact with my husband, you get annoyed at me for interrupting you. When was the last time we spent time together just enjoying each others' company?" She looked down, unable to hold his gaze. Richard continued to look at her, his face a mixture of shock and regret.
He tried to take in all that she was saying. He was feeling guilty, and he wasn't sure how to respond. This was the woman he had loved for so long, and she meant more to him than anything. But it was true. He had been taking her for granted lately, and he'd been neglecting her, acting as if her life was indeed frivolous. Sure, he didn't share her enthusiasm for fundraisers and the DAR. But they were important to her. So was their role in society and meeting society's expectations, the same expectations he himself had bought into early on. But most of all, these things were important to his wife, and he shouldn't have made her feel like she was beneath him for wanting them.
"Emily, you're wrong about how I feel," he said, hoping he sounded reassuring.
"No, I'm not. You've made it very clear that I don't satisfy you." She walked back to the chaise and slouched onto it.
"No, Emily …" he responded, gently moving forward to sit down next to her."
I don't even know why you married me," she mumbled, looking away from him.
He knew at this point that she didn't mean what she was saying. She was just feeling so dejected and unloved that she didn't know how to handle her feelings. He was going to have to reassure her, though, and he hoped he could break through her defense mechanisms.
He turned toward her and leaned in very slightly. "Emily, we were meant to be together. You know that."
"But you could have had any woman you wanted," she said, still looking away.
"I got the woman I wanted," he reassured her.
Emily looked at him. "Richard, you could have had someone who was more accomplished, someone who was doing something with her life, someone you could see as your equal," she uttered, a pleading look in her eyes.
"And why did you have to bring me into your life?" she continued, her heartbreak evident in her voice. "You could have left me alone and let me find a man who wanted to be with someone like me. There were men who would have wanted a wife like me."
"Including the man sitting next to you," he said gently.
"If I had never married you, I wouldn't be going through this." She tried to keep from breaking down in front of him but with her anger subsiding, she couldn't hold back the tears any longer. She bit her lip and took a shuddering breath, trying to contain the rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Though she was able to keep herself from sobbing, it was clear to Richard that she was beginning to cry. He wanted to reach out to her but knew she would push him away if he tried right now.
"You don't know what it's like for me to realize that my husband, the man I have loved my whole adult life, doesn't think my life is worthwhile." She looked down at her lap, her shoulders slumped slightly.
Richard could see not only the sadness and pain but almost a sense of resignation in her face. This had taken an enormous toll on her, and until now, he hadn't realized just how deeply hurt she had been. It wasn't just those few words the other night. There was much more to it than that. Oh God, this was the love of his life. The woman he had adored for over forty years. And she thought he was falling out of love with her.
Emily was tired, both physically and emotionally. She didn't feel like she could take any more and hated that Richard had seen her break down. If he didn't leave now, she might not be able to handle her emotions at all. "It's late, and I should get to bed," she said as she stood up and started to head toward the door to open it for Richard.
He could hear the pain that lay beneath the terseness in her voice, and he knew she was on the verge of shutting down emotionally. He wasn't sure if she'd be willing to listen to him right now. But if he wanted her to know how he really felt, he was going to have to pour his heart out to her. He hadn't done that very often in the past. He preferred to express his love for her through his actions. And she had always seemed more comfortable with that, too. But she had been receptive to him when he had spoken from his heart before, and he hoped he could get through to her now.
"Emily, wait." He walked toward her, reaching out to grasp her arm gently, and she stopped. "May I say something?" She turned around, sat back down on the chaise, and looked straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. He sat down next to her.
His voice was gentle. "Emily, you're absolutely right that I haven't treated you very well recently. But when it comes to my feelings for you, you couldn't be further from the truth." She glanced up at him, and in the moment she looked at him, he could tell that she was listening.
"I am very sorry about what I said the other night. I never meant to imply that your life is meaningless or frivolous," Richard said earnestly.
"What did you mean, then?" she asked, looking slightly in his direction.
"I was upset that night, and I was feeling terribly guilty. I'm very worried about Rory. She's turned away from her dream, and she's going down the wrong path."
"And you blame that on me, too," she said, looking away again.
Richard gently turned her head toward him, forcing her to look at him. "No, Emily, I don't. It's all my fault. I was the one who gave in to Rory and decided to go against Lorelai. And I talked you into going against her, too. That's why I was feeling so guilty that night. I had been drinking too much, and I didn't express myself very well. I wasn't talking about you when I said those things. I was talking about Rory. The way she's been acting lately is nothing like your life."
"She's doing the same sorts of things I do," she countered, her eyes looking downward.
"No, Emily. That's only a small portion of your life. There is so much more to it than that."
"Like what?" she asked, still looking away.
Richard leaned in slightly toward her. "Well, for one thing, you raised our daughter. And too often you had to do it alone because I was away on business." Emily took in a deep breath, remembering how she had felt during those times. "And you have always taken care of the needs of our family. No matter what we need, you are there to provide it. You have devoted your life to taking care of us." Emily nodded slightly, looking straight ahead.
"You've also created a wonderful home for us," he said warmly. "You have an amazing sense of design and impeccable taste. You could have been an interior designer if you'd wanted to be." Richard saw an almost imperceptible smile appear on her face, and his voice took on an even more encouraging tone. "You know that most of our neighbors and visitors are envious of what you have done with our home. It has always been lovely and the perfect place for entertaining anyone - my bosses, clients, coworkers, and even charitable organizations." Emily continued to take in what he said. She knew that this was one thing she had always been good at, and though he had paid lip service to her talent before, she'd never really been sure he appreciated it.
He placed his arm on the back of the chaise behind her and continued. "And yet this beautiful home you have created is also the sanctuary I come home to when I've had a hard day." Emily glanced at him briefly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by these words she had never heard him say before. "If someone asked me what kind of home would be perfect for me," Richard continued, encouraged by her expression, "and if I could give an intelligent answer, I would describe a home just like the one you have created."
Emily looked up at him and held his gaze for a moment. He really seemed to mean what he was saying. He rarely spoke to her in this way, and she wasn't sure what to make of it. She felt her emotions welling up inside, and it was hard to keep them under control. But she knew she wanted to hear more, so she took a deep breath and waited for him to continue.
"And," he went on, his voice a mixture of awe and pride, "you organize all of our social events and our charity giving. I don't know how you do it all! You have organizational skills that would make an operations manager envious! You know I can hardly keep up with all that you do as it is." They both smiled. "Imagine if I had to try to do it myself. I couldn't do a fraction of what you do so effortlessly.
"His voice softened, and he looked at her tenderly, the deep emotion evident in his blue eyes. "But in my selfish way, I must say that second only in importance to your raising our daughter is what you have meant to me. You have loved and supported me for over forty years, even when it was the last thing you felt like doing."
She furrowed her brow in confusion and looked up at him again.
"Like at my mother's wake. You were still reeling after having found that horrible letter, and yet all you could think about was making sure I was OK. I can't tell you how much that meant to me."
"You knew I found the letter?" she replied, shocked by the revelation.
"Yes. Rory told me." Emily looked at him, surprised. "After my head started to clear, I noticed you were not yourself, and I forced her to tell me the reason." He leaned toward her slightly and his voice took on a quiet intensity. "Emily, it was a despicable letter, and you never should have seen it. I remember being very angry with my mother when I first read it. I wish you had never found out about it. But even after you did, you were thinking only of me."
Richard studied Emily's expression and could see that she was listening closely. He hoped that what he was saying was making an impact.
"I wouldn't be who I am without you." He saw her shake her head slightly. "Emily, it's true. How can you not know that?" he asked in disbelief.
She looked up at him. "Richard," she replied, her voice shaking slightly but still firm, "you are so brilliant and so accomplished. You could do anything you want to do! I don't do anything but organize events and shop. How have I helped you become who you are?"
He leaned closer to her. "Emily, you may not have owned your own business or worked outside the home, but you have contributed more than your share to this marriage."
"I don't see how," she responded. After all of the years she had felt like he took her for granted, she didn't expect to hear those words come from him. Could he really mean them? She turned toward him, listening closely as he continued.
"You have loved me and been there for me for over forty years," he replied, his voice deep with emotion. "Not only have you organized my life and taken care of me, but there is much more to it than that. You have offered me a deep and lasting love that has sustained me and that I've been able to count on. You're always there for me." Emily took a deep breath, starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the intensity of his words.
"You asked me why I married you," he continued. "I know it was a rhetorical statement spoken when you were upset, but I would like to answer it if you want to hear it."
"All right," she said, her voice a little uncertain but curious.
"It was because you showed me what love is." She glanced up at him, her face a mixture of confusion and curiosity. She had almost a smile on her face and clearly wanted him to continue. "Or to be more precise, you showed me what love could be.
"I hate to bring up a sore subject, but you know I was seriously involved with Pennilyn Lott." Emily exhaled audibly and nodded slightly as she looked down at her lap.
"She is a fine person, and I cared a lot about her. I think she would have been a good wife, and we would have been very content together." Emily sighed again.
"But then I met you," he continued, more animatedly. "You were maddening, and you were exciting!"
He leaned toward her again and said with more intensity, "Emily, you turned my life upside down! I had never met anyone like you. Not only were you stunningly beautiful (as you are now) …" She couldn't help smiling slightly. "… but it was so much more than that. Like the other women I had dated, you knew the rules of proper society. But unlike other women, you not only had your own mind, but you weren't afraid to speak it." She smiled again. "You argued with me about everything! You challenged me on everything! It drove me crazy sometimes, but I also found it refreshing and intriguing. There was just something about you that was irresistible. You drove me crazy sometimes, but you also excited me." Emily looked at him, and he could see that her features had softened.
"And, Emily, you made me feel things I had never felt before. Until I met you, I didn't know I could love as deeply as I love you. I didn't know I had it in me. I also didn't know that love could be so deep and so passionate at the same time. I knew couples whose relationships were passionate, but at some point, their relationships fizzled out. I also knew some couples who loved each other deeply, and they were happy, but they didn't seem to have that passion in their lives. You offered me both." Emily looked up at Richard again, and when he saw the tenderness in her eyes, he was encouraged to go on.
"And that love and that passion have continued for over forty years. Emily, when you walk into the room, my heart still skips a beat. When you smile at me or I look into your eyes, I still get weak in the knees." Emily smiled, his reassurance starting to melt her doubts.
A little playfulness crept into his voice when he saw her smile. "Of course, I have mixed feelings when I kiss you," he continued, raising his eyebrow slightly.
She chuckled lightly. "Oh, do you?" she responded. Richard could see a slight sparkle in her eyes.
"Yes, I do. One the one hand, I feel the deeply satisfying familiarity of kissing someone I have loved all of my adult life." She smiled again. "But at the same time, I experience the explosive fireworks that come with kissing someone who still sets me on fire." When she saw the passion in his eyes, Emily felt her pulse quicken slightly.
"Emily, you are my partner," he reassured, looking at her intently. "You're every bit my equal. And I am still hopelessly in love with you. I am so sorry that I made you feel unimportant. I hope you will forgive me."
Emily was overwhelmed by what he had said to her. He still loved her as deeply as ever. She leaned over and kissed him tenderly. Oh, God, it felt good to be kissing him again. When she felt him respond to her kiss, all of the emotions she had been trying to control suddenly broke through to the surface, and her kiss turned hungry and passionate. She pulled him closer, and he could feel that she wanted more.
Richard returned her kiss passionately, and then pulled away slightly, looking into her face. "Does this mean you forgive me?"
"Richard, I forgave you as soon as you apologized." He sighed, and she could see a mixture of relief and joy in his face. How he loved this woman! Despite how much he had hurt her, she still forgave him readily. "Emily Gilmore, I love you very much."
He pulled her closer and began to kiss her deeply again, and she moaned as she returned his hungry kiss. Then she suddenly broke away and tried to catch her breath. "Wait. I can't do this here. Not yet."
His joy suddenly turned to dejection. She had wanted him just a moment ago. Why had she suddenly changed her mind? Had he done something wrong? Then he heard her say, "Let's go to our bedroom."
He exhaled audibly as his disappointment turned to relief and elation. She wasn't saying she didn't want to be with him. She was simply saying she didn't want to be here, in the room where she had been separated from him for days.
Richard grinned, stood up, and then reached down and scooped her up into his arms. "I will gladly take you to our bedroom." She reached her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He then carried her out the door and down the hall.
Emily lazily stretched her arm farther around Richard's waist as she snuggled closer to him. "That was incredible. You were amazing as always."
He grinned. "Well, I wasn't acting alone, you know."
She chuckled lightly and squeezed him gently, nuzzling her head against his neck. How wonderful it was to be in his arms again. "I wish you didn't have to get up so early tomorrow."
"I do, too." He looked down at her and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "What do you have going on tomorrow? Maybe you can sleep late."
"I don't want to sleep in if you're not here," she answered.
He suddenly sat up, almost knocking her off his chest. "I have to make a call."
"What?! What are you doing?" She sat up, looking at him in surprise as Richard reached for the phone. "You're making a call now?" He dialed a number as Emily watched in disbelief.
"Karen, this is Mr. Gilmore. I won't be in until Tuesday, so you'll need to postpone my appointments. If there's an emergency, you can call me on my cell. Otherwise, I'll see you Tuesday." He hung up the phone and smiled at Emily, whose face expressed her surprise and pleasure. "Now we can sleep in," he said.
"You're taking the whole day off tomorrow to be with me?" she asked, her voice a mixture of surprise and joy.
He smiled and kissed her, delighted by her obvious pleasure. "Yes, I am." She settled back into his arms and smiled against his chest.
"You know, Emily," he said, raising his eyebrow playfully. She looked up at him. "Since we can sleep in late tomorrow, that means we can stay up late tonight, too."
"Why, yes that's true," she responded, matching his playful look. "Whatever will we do with the time?"
Richard grinned. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of some- …" He didn't mind that his sentence was interrupted as he returned her passionate kiss.
THE END
Author's Note: I want to thank my fabulous, patient, insightful beta, Elizabeth, for all of her help. She not only offered excellent ideas for improving the story, but she gave me confidence in it, too. I also want to thank Cira and Mel for their encouragement and ideas, and especially my daughter, Elizabeth, for her feedback, encouragement, and support.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or any of the characters, but I'm not making a profit on this, either.