Disclaimer: Totally don't own these characters, or this world. I just like to be a part of it. I give all credit to the writers of this fantastic show for the dialogue I've borrowed.
Author's Notes:
So, in the aftermath of the final four words, I've found that everyone has been focusing in on how Rory was going to deal with the news (obviously) but what hit me more was how Lorelai was going to deal with it. We all saw what happened when Rory dropped out of Yale. Here's what I could see happening when Rory made it known she was pregnant.
Also, I'm working on the last chapter of A Secret Beginning, no worries, but I needed to get this one off my mind...
After
She sat staring blankly at the TV. On the coffee table in front of her, sat a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, which was now just a melted, soupy mess. Hours ago, there had been intentions to eat it. There had also been intentions to eat the Red Vines, and popcorn as well. However, all food items remained, with the ice cream leaving a growing condensation ring on the table. Soon, it would scar the wood, forever leaving a bitter reminder of this day. She knew she should clean it up, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She couldn't bring herself to do much of anything at the moment.
Outside, the wind started to blow, brushing a tree branch across the side of the house. The branch would have to be trimmed soon before it damaged anything. Until then, it pierced the quiet still of the night, drowning out the murmuring voices on the TV which were much too quiet to comprehend. She didn't want to wake him, so had at some point turned the volume down almost as low as it could go. The branch might wake him though. It needed to be trimmed. So much needed to be done. So little seemed to matter.
Beside her, he slept peacefully. He had tried to stay awake as long as he could, but his body wasn't running on the same level of grief as hers, and had finally given up. His hand still rested on her thigh, but his head was tilted back awkwardly against the corner of the couch cushions. She knew he would wake up with a crick in his neck which would affect his ability to work all day. Hopefully she would be able to massage it gently out the next night. Hopefully she would be able to move the next night. Hopefully she wouldn't feel as defeated the next night.
Today was supposed to have been one of the happiest days of her life. Just 24 short hours ago, she was sitting with him at the kitchen table, boxes of pizza cluttering the surface, as they threw around the wild idea to get married right at that moment. Suddenly, it was a whirlwind as they chose their outfits, and then roused their closest friends to be with them at their happiest moment.
And then they were dancing the night away through the magical wonderland created by Kirk, laughing in each other's arms until the sun started to peek above the horizon. As the light of a new day filled the town square, their friends began to disperse, and he kissed her goodbye as he went to open the diner, leaving her on the steps of the gazebo with her best friend to toast the happy day.
"Mom?"
"Yeah."
"I'm pregnant."
Two words. Four, if the whole exchange was counted. Either way, such a small grouping of words, but a grouping that caused a landslide. She gasped when the words left her daughter's mouth. She gasped in stunned disbelief. She gasped in bitter disappointment. She gasped in brief jealousy.
She tried to cover her response with joy. She tried to respond in a way a best friend would respond. She tried to not respond as her own mother had during this conversation.
She failed miserably.
"Oh, hon. That's…" She had to lean forward to hug her daughter, so she could delay giving any sort of indication to her thoughts on the issue. Her tears could have indicated either joy or sorrow, but she was fairly certain her daughter saw the truth. Sometimes her eyes were just as expressive as her words.
When she broached the subject of the father, and her daughter dipped her eyes to ground, she knew the answer. And that hurt even more. She had always prided herself that her daughter was so similar to her. Now, she would have given anything to have her daughter be the exact opposite of her.
"Mama. Snow!"
"Mommy, don't let me fall!"
"Mommy, can we ask Luke to come to the caterpillar's funeral?"
"Oh my god, I'm going to Chilton!"
"I got into an accident."
"I missed your graduation, which is the worst thing I could have possibly done."
"How can I go to Yale with my wall looking like this?"
"I'm not going back to Yale next year."
"Mom, I got a job!"
"Tell me what you think I should do."
"Mom. I'm pregnant."
As scenes from her daughter's life flashed by her eyes, she stumbled through the town square. What had only hours ago been a whimsical fantasyland, now seemed messy and out of place in the light of day. A stop at Doose's was needed – wallowing materials were needed – and it must have been someone there who alerted him to her state of mind. She wasn't sure she was speaking coherently, and apparently she wasn't.
He found her sitting on the couch staring blankly at the television screen, the wallowing food laid out in front of her on the coffee table. He sat down next to her and asked what was wrong. He asked if she was regretting what happened the night before. He asked if she had changed her mind.
"Rory's pregnant." Her voice came out watery and hollow. Her lips were dry and cracked, but she didn't even have the energy to moisten them with her tongue.
"What?"
She watched as he leapt from the couch in shock. His natural reaction to unexpected news was usually fear masked as anger, and this time was no different. His illusion of his perfect step-daughter was shattered with two words. Such a small grouping of words creating such a massive landslide. He demanded to know who the father was. He demanded to know why the punk wasn't here already. He demanded to know what was going to be done.
He quietly asked if she was ok.
"Lorelai."
She had been watching him through glassy eyes as he paced around the living room. She knew he would react like this. His loud outburst perfectly balanced out her quiet disbelief. She waited until he stopped his pacing, moved his face close to hers and said her name. When he did, she blinked a few tears out of her eyes, feeling each and every one of them burn a trail down her cheeks as they fell.
Her daughter. Her perfect daughter had once again taken away from a perfect day. First, it was her graduation. Then, it was the opening of the Dragonfly. Now, it was her wedding day. Children always came first, right? But how old did children have to be before they should know better?
His eyes searched hers until she finally broke. As she spoke, she realized her words mirrored those she spoke over a decade ago. What a full, complete, and awful circle they had come.
"She doesn't have a job and got pregnant. She's going to raise the baby alone. Everything we worked for. All these years. Her whole future. She was supposed to have more than me. She was supposed to have everything. That was the plan. We had a plan. Now she's just like me. I tried so hard. I supported her through everything. I kept my life an open book to her. I should have been harder on her. She wasn't supposed to end up like me. I did this wrong. I did this all wrong. How could I have let this happen? How did I not see it coming? Why didn't I step in and do something, and…why can't I fix these things?"
"Hey." He started playing with the tips of her hair, trying to comfort her and bring her down from hysteria.
"I'm a bad mother."
In that instant, she suddenly understood what her own mother had felt 33 years ago. And while she would never shun her daughter, she now understood why her mother had chosen that path. A carefully laid plan was uprooted. Dreams would have to be reworked, lives would have to be restructured. A new life would have to be considered. Things were not as they should be, and while not bad, were not the plan.
She looked at him through blurry eyes, and could see him shaking in anger, but keeping it tempered on her behalf. She could see him being there for her, and she knew in that instant, she would not make it through this without him. He was her everything.
"You're not a bad mother. You're exhausted. Have you slept?"
"No."
"Stay here. Watch TV. I'll stay with you. We're going to get through this. Everything's gonna be ok."
And so, she sat. For hours. Staring at the TV, her mind both a blur and a total blank. She wasn't sure exactly when he fell asleep, but his hand, warm as ever on her thigh, kept her grounded. It might take a while, but he was right – they were going to get through this. Everything was going to be ok. They would handle it together. As a family. As Gilmores. As Danes.
She blinked a few times, pulling herself from the dazed stupor which had settled over her, and turned her head towards her husband, before slumping into his sleeping body. His warmth finally lulled her into sleep. Lorelai Victoria Danes was going to be a grandmother. A damn good grandmother.
