"You have a beautiful baby girl, Miss Gilmore."
Lorelai blinked blearily at the nurse, her brain struggling for comprehension. The cheerful woman placed a writhing, crying bundle next to her, and Lorelai turned her head. Blue eyes met identical blue eyes, and the baby stopped crying. Mother and daughter stared at each other for a few eternal seconds until the nurse came to take the baby to the nursery.
"Goodbye, sweets," Lorelai whispered before drifting off to sleep.
Emily Gilmore stood in front of the large window, staring at the tiny Baby Gilmore. The wide blue eyes. The shock of black hair. The delicately shaped nose and the busy little hands.
"Emily."
"She looks just like her," Emily whispered to her husband as he came up behind her. "She's beautiful."
"How is Lorelai?"
"Asleep. They'll let us know when she wakes up…" Emily's voice caught in her throat.
"Emily…"
She walked away and sank onto a hard plastic chair. So young. A grandmother at not-quite-forty. Her beautiful, brilliant, black-haired Lorelai was a mother at sixteen. No Yale. No high school graduation. Anger swelled up inside her. But for Christopher, this would never have happened. That little hoodlum with his leather jacket and his motorcycle…
"Mrs. Gilmore, Miss Gilmore is waking up."
Lorelai stared into her daughter's electric blue eyes.
Lorelai Leigh Gilmore. Why shouldn't I name you after me? Men name boys after themselves. Besides… little Lorelai yawned and older Lorelai's heart squeezed, …you're mine. All mine. And I'm yours. Forever.
"Lorelai?"
Lorelai looked up, and Emily's heart contracted in pain. Fierce maternal pride and womanly knowledge shone out of a face too young to know what maternal pride was.
"Mom," she said. "Meet your granddaughter. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore." She held the baby out to her, and Emily took her, staring into her serious eyes.
"Hello, Lorelai," she whispered, blinking back tears. "Welcome."
After a few moments she placed the baby on the bed next to her daughter. She reached out and carefully brushed a strand of dark hair off Lorelai's forehead.
"She looks exactly like you," Emily said quietly.
"She has Christopher's ears, I think," Lorelai answered. "Lucky kid."
"Hello, Lorelai."
Lorelai looked up at her father, who looked stiff and uncomfortable.
"Hi, Dad," she said timidly. "Is…Christopher here yet?"
"No. He's not," Richard said shortly.
"Oh."
Emily picked up young Lorelai. "Here, Richard. Meet Lorelai Leigh Gilmore." She placed the tiny bundle in her grandfather's awkward arms. His face softened, and he stood there silently gazing for a long time.
"You aren't going to call her Lorelai, are you?" Emily asked carefully.
"No," Lorelai answered, never taking her eyes off her father smitten with his granddaughter. "I'm going to call her Rory. My Rory."
"There is no reason why you can't go to school and let Gretel take care of Rory, Lorelai," Emily snapped as Lorelai clutched the infant to her, glaring at the maid.
"I don't want to go. I want to stay home with my baby."
"Lorelai, now is not the time to be stubborn. You need to think about your future."
"I am! I am thinking about Rory. She is my future. I want to stay with her."
"I will not let you become a drop-out, Lorelai."
"I am not a kid, anymore, Mom. I have a kid. Stop trying to control me, for God's sake!"
"I'm your mother. That's my job. As long as you are here, you will do as I say."
Lorelai met her eyes, unflinching and determined. "Fine."
The bed was made. The closet was empty. A note on the pillow…
Mom and Dad,
I will let you know when I get where I'm going. I won't be back. Rory loves you.
Lorelai
It was hard to breathe. The rain was pouring. And her daughter and granddaughter – the two most precious things she owned – were out there. Alone. Wet. Homeless.
She screamed for Richard; she ran out of the room and down the stairs. She found him in the study, grabbed his coat.
"Gone, Richard! They're gone! Get the car, please, for the love of God!"
"Emily, stop," Richard said, gripping her shoulders. "Who is gone?"
"Our babies," Emily gasped, gulping air. "She's gone, they're gone, they're out there, and God only knows where – kidnappers and hitchhikers and, dammit, Richard, do something!"
Richard was pale as he led his nearly hysterical wife out to the car. They drove for hours. No sign of Lorelai and Rory. Anywhere.
Emily suddenly let out a strangled cry. "Richard, we have to go home, we have to home now. She said she would call, what if she calls and we aren't there, turn around, turn around now!"
They ran into the house and Emily grabbed Gretel. "Has Miss Lorelai called? Has she called?"
"N-no, ma'am," gulped the maid.
"Dammit," Emily whimpered, slumping onto the sofa.
The phone rang. She dove for it.
"Lorelai? Please, God, Lorelai?"
"Hi, Mom," said her daughter's voice, tired and young and far away.
Tears streamed down Emily's cheeks. "You're alive."
"I'm fine, Mom. I'm safe, I'm warm, I'm dry, and so is Rory."
"Where are you?"
"You know I can't tell you that."
"Lorelai, come home. Stop being so dramatic."
"I can't come home. Rory and I have to be on our own. I promise we'll keep in touch."
"Lorelai, please…"
"I have to go, Mom. I'll call again soon."
The phone went dead. Emily sat on the sofa until Richard made her go upstairs to bed. She lay there, crying silently, thinking of her daughter and her granddaughter and that hideously empty bedroom down the hall and the horrible aching pain in her chest.
She didn't get up for a month.
A/N: My first story here. Should I continue? Please RnR!