Author's Note: Oh would you look at that? Taylor Swift inspired me to write another Gilmore story. Sorry not sorry. I couldn't help but imagine them when I was listening to The Way I Loved You a few days ago, so here it is.
The Way He Loved Her
It was a typical Friday night at the Gilmore home. Emily needed Lorelai to look through some things in the basement, so Richard was left alone with Rory in the living room.
"How are you doing, Rory?"
"I'm fine. How are you, Grandpa?"
Richard nodded slightly, approving of her politeness. "I'm doing very well, thank you. What are you reading these days?"
"I just finished up Cannery Row. That was a quick read."
"And how did you like it?"
"I really enjoyed it. Lots of really interesting imagery. Steinbeck makes his settings another character in his stories. It's fun and different."
"I always enjoyed that book. I should find my copy and give it another look. It's been years." Richard stood up to refresh his drink, wondering what was taking Emily so long with Lorelai. It was nearly time for dinner. "Have you started reading anything since the Steinbeck?" he asked, desperate to find something to talk about with his sixteen year old granddaughter.
"I'm almost halfway through Katharine Hepburn's autobiography."
"Is that so? What made you decide to read that?"
Rory shifted in her seat, wondering if her grandfather would find the reason stupid. "Well, Mom decided that we needed a little more classic feminism in our lives, so we decided to watch Katharine Hepburn movies. Tuesday is now Katharine Hepburn night."
"You know, your grandmother loves Katharine Hepburn."
"Really?"
"Yes. A Philadelphia Story is one of her favorite movies."
Rory grinned. "I loved that one. Jimmy Stewart was great in that."
"Do you have a favorite film so far from your Katharine Hepburn nights?"
"I really enjoyed State of the Union. But I think The African Queen was the best."
"That one is my favorite, too. You know, she'd hate it if I ever said it to her, but Katharine Hepburn's character in that reminds me of your grandmother. So self-assured and strong-willed. A little demanding, but elegant and brave."
Rory couldn't help but smile. She was still getting to know her grandparents, and every so often, something like this would happen that made her rethink so much of her opinions of them. "Katharine Hepburn wrote a lot about making that movie. Actually, something she said made me think of you and Grandma."
"Oh? And what was that?"
"Well she talked about Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall because they were all in Africa together to film the movie. And she said she'd never seen two people more perfectly matched, but they would fight all the time. Katharine Hepburn said they were like two cats deliciously locked in the same cage."
"And that made you think of us?"
Rory suddenly felt very awkward. "Um…yeah I guess. Because you guys do fight a lot but it's like a sport to you, right?"
Richard sat back down on the sofa with a small smile. "Rory, has anyone ever told you why I married your grandmother?"
Rory frowned, unsure of where this was going. Where was her mother? Couldn't they eat soon? "You met at Yale, right? That's all I know."
"Believe it or not, I wasn't supposed to marry Emily Ashford. In fact, when I met her, I was engaged to a woman named Pennilyn Lott."
Rory's eyes went wide. Taking that as a sign to tell the full story, Richard began at the beginning.
Richard and Emily first met at a fraternity party at Yale. She had been wearing a blue dress that highlighted her pale skin and auburn hair as though she stepped out of a painting by Rossetti. Her dark eyes scanned him up and down, sizing him up in an instant. A coy smile played on her lips, letting him know he'd passed the first round of what was sure to be a rigorous process of inspection.
He was taken with her in that first moment. She wore all the right clothes, had her hair just the right way, had all the correct manners; most people probably wrote her off as just another debutante at a women's college. But Richard could tell there was something slightly off about her that he couldn't put his finger on. He figured it out about two minutes after they first spoke.
Emily Ashford had a mouth on her. She wasn't vulgar in any way, though she certainly could swear up a storm if properly provoked, as Richard found out much later. But Emily had opinions that her well-mannered upbringing had somehow failed to silence.
On their first date, Richard ordered a white wine with dinner. After the waiter left, Emily told him that perhaps a red would be better, given the sauce on the chicken. Richard countered that, regardless of sauce, chicken called for white wine. They spent twenty minutes in this vein, neither conceding the point. In the end, Emily told him that the white wine was very good with their meal. Secretly, Richard couldn't help but wonder if a red might have paired better.
For weeks, she drove him crazy. He nearly got into an accident when he started yelling at her in the car. He had gotten distracted when he turned his head to look at her. As annoyed as he got with her constant disagreement and refusal to back down, he loved watching her do it. Her eyes would flash, and her cheeks would get a slight pink tinge to them when she got really worked up. Her hands would gesture wildly to match the passion in her voice. Long after he had taken her home after their dates, he would think about how she looked all in the midst of an argument.
Once he'd figured out how entranced he was by it, he'd find things to bring up just to slightly annoy her. She'd picked up on what he was doing. They argued for the fun of arguing. They had fun challenging each other. Emily confided in Richard that she'd never had anyone argue with her without getting really upset at her. She had tried to keep her mouth shut around previous boyfriends, but she simply couldn't do it, and it had never ended well. Between the look of her and the newfound knowledge that he was unique in appreciating her, Richard found himself incredibly turned on by their disagreements. More often than not, an argument would simply turn into a make-out session. Richard couldn't help himself. And Emily didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, if he had to guess, he'd say she had begun baiting him just so he'd kiss her good and hard.
Emily Ashford awakened something in Richard Gilmore. And once she had, he didn't quite know how to go back to the life he lived before.
"Richard, I don't understand why you won't come meet my parents," Emily said to him one day, her brow furrowed. "We've been seeing each other for almost two months."
"I just can't, Emily," he insisted. He didn't want to tell her the real reason. He wanted to stay in their crazy, exciting bubble of new love.
"You've said that, but you haven't told me why. And I refuse to drop the subject without some explanation. I think I deserve that much," she challenged, gearing up for another of their famous fights.
But Richard couldn't allow this to be fodder to turn her on. "Enough." His voice was cold and hard and lacking the usual light levity.
Now Emily was getting upset for real. "No! Richard Gilmore, you explain yourself right now!"
"I cannot meet your parents because I'm engaged to someone else!" he told her angrily.
She looked at him with wide eyes. For the first time in her life, Emily didn't know what to say. "You…what?" she stammered.
"It's been a long-standing arrangement. Pennilyn Lott and I have been together since high school. It's always been understood that we'd wed after we finish school. We both go out and date other people with the understanding that it won't be anything serious. So that's why I can't meet your parents, Emily. Because that would be getting too serious, and I can't do that." Richard didn't add that, for the first time, he'd met someone that made him find the arrangement with Pennilyn truly unfortunate. He'd never wanted to get serious with anyone before. But he'd never met anyone like Emily before.
Emily's lips were pressed tightly together as she took in this information. "Fine." She turned and walked in the opposite direction from him. "Do not call me anymore," she instructed as she left. She didn't turn back. She didn't want him to see the tears forming in her eyes.
For the next few months, Richard decided to exclusively date Pennilyn. After all, it was only another year and a half until they finished college, and then they'd be spending the rest of their lives as husband and wife. And it was nice, being with her and only her after so long. It was easy. His mother loved her, and her father was going to give him a job after graduation. Richard's friends all told him how lucky he was to have such a beautiful, proper, perfect woman. It felt correct to be with her. Comfortable and proper.
And beyond the sense of propriety and ease he felt with Pennilyn, Richard felt absolutely nothing at all. He longed for the complexity and intrigue and annoyance and excitement and overwhelming adoration he had felt with Emily. He hadn't known he could feel so much at once before he met her, and after she was gone, everything else was just so empty. Being with her had been such an adrenaline rush that he'd gotten himself addicted to it. The withdrawals were very real, and almost painful. Emily had set him on fire. Pennilyn made him numb.
It took about two months of this before Richard knew for sure that he couldn't live his life that way anymore. He wasn't even positive about it until he showed up to a party late one rainy Saturday in October. He entered the fraternity house and removed his wet coat, trying to put his usually well-coifed hair back into place. And then he saw her.
Emily stood in the center of the room, talking animatedly with a drink in her hand. She threw her auburn head back and laughed. Richard could feel his heart stop, especially when he noticed what she was wearing. It was that same blue dress she'd had on when they first met. He found himself walking toward her, unable to resist her tempting pull.
"It's nice to see you, Emily," he said, catching her attention.
She turned to face him, looking him up and down with her brow raised. "Richard. You're looking well," she said politely. "Where's your fiancée?"
"Pennilyn doesn't enjoy fraternity parties."
Emily shrugged. "Pity, seeing as you always have so much fun at them."
"And you'd never say no to a party, would you, Emily?" he asked, his mouth forming a small smile. He knew how she loved to be in the center of the action, admired by everyone who saw her.
Emily didn't answer is question, but instead changed the subject. "You arrived later than is fashionable, Richard. I do hope you've greeted the host, or did you rudely forget as you tripped over yourself to talk to me?"
Richard could feel his blood beginning to boil at her words. "As I…Emily!"
Her eyes flashed as she rolled her shoulders, standing up even straighter than before, getting into her best fighting stance.
"Emily, would you join me outside, please?" he asked. His tone was low, angry, and dangerous. He didn't wait for her to respond, but instead grabbed her arm and took her toward the door.
"Richard, it's pouring rain outside!" she protested.
"I don't care." They went outside and stood in the heavy downfall. "Why are you here? You obviously knew I'd be here."
Emily stood there, getting soaked by the rain. "I've been avoiding you and I'm tired of it. You dated me for two months while you were engaged to another woman. And I walked away from you and told you not to call me."
"Which I didn't."
"No. And I appreciate that. But I robbed you of a choice."
"What choice?"
"Her or me."
Richard didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected that.
When he didn't respond, Emily continued, "I've spent months thinking about you and wondering what you're doing and if you've been missing me as much as I've missed you. And I refuse to let that go on any longer without doing something about it." She could hear a hint of hysteria in her voice. She blamed the rain for getting her so worked up.
He silenced her with a hard kiss. It was full of all the fire and passion and desperation she had filled him with since the moment they met. Their lips and tongues battled one another as they held each other tight. He felt her shiver in his arms, perhaps from the cold rain or perhaps from the kiss.
Richard had made his choice. And really, it wasn't a choice at all. Emily must have known that. And Richard was glad.
The next day, he spoke to Lynnie quietly, telling her in vague terms that he had realized that he couldn't marry her. He apologized for leading her on and for abandoning her this way. She took it stoically, asking him to allow her to tell her parents before he told his, and to please wait at least one week before dating anyone else.
So for two weeks, Richard called Emily on the phone every night. He kept his promise to Pennilyn in his own way. He and Emily weren't technically dating if they weren't in the same state. But when the imposed period of propriety ended, he and Emily spent every possible moment together. He proposed four months later, much to the dismay of his mother. But he didn't care. Richard had met his match, and he wouldn't live a day in his life feeling anything less than the insanity of Emily and her love.
"So I was right," Rory said triumphantly. "You guys do like fighting!"
"After over three decades together, I'm not sure that we necessarily like it, per se, but it is one of our idiosyncrasies as a couple," Richard replied.
Rory regarded her grandfather curiously. He was often such an uninterested, genial man, eager to avoid unnecessary controversy. This information about how he and her grandmother had come together was unexpected.
"I'm sorry we've kept you." Emily walked into the living room, followed closely by Lorelai.
"I'm sure you had more fun than I did," Lorelai said to Rory under her breath.
Rory just shrugged, hiding the smile playing on her lips.
Richard stood up from his chair to join his wife at the drink cart.
"Would you like me to freshen your drink, Richard?" she asked, feeling his presence behind her. She turned to find him less than an inch from her body. "Oh!" she said in surprise.
He grinned. "I think you'll find that my drink could use freshening, but I'd rather do it myself. It always gets watered down too fast when you do it."
Emily saw that look and gave a small smile. He was baiting her. "I do it exactly the way you do it, Richard. There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way I mix drinks," she insisted.
"Oh brother." Lorelai rolled her eyes, seeing that her parents were going to start needlessly bickering again.
But Rory grinned. She had seen them look at each other that way before. She had once thought it was annoyance. But now she could see that they were coming alive. Two cats locked deliciously in the same cage. And that's the way they loved each other.