I don't know how long I've had this roaming around in my head. A very long time. Again, I thank my absolutely amazing beta, Fluffernutter8, for pushing, inspiring, and making sure I constantly improve my writing.
"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."
Francine Hayden was not a strong woman. She was not stubborn or loud or authoritative. She was no Rosa Parks or Hilary Clinton or Lorelai Gilmore. She wasn't even an Emily Gilmore. No, she was fragile, soft, and pretty much a push-over.
She wasn't a strong woman, but all she wanted to do now was rise on her hind legs and protect this tiny child in front of her. She looked at the baby, her granddaughter, and just wanted to protect the infant from the screaming match around her. Rory was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the fact that the people in the next room were all shouting because of her, 6 pounds, 13 ounces self, attempting to determine what the rest of her life would look like. She never wanted things to turn out this way.
"I'm not lost for I know where I am. But however, where I am may be lost."
Francine was feeling lost in her own world after Christopher left and Lorelai ran away, and didn't know what to do with the life that she had invested in raising her boy. Her house was empty. Her boy had been sent away to another boarding school, where Straub says he will receive a good education and maybe grow up to become something. He said pretty much the same thing of the three other schools Christopher attended this past year, none of which lasted. She knew her boy, knew that he was delicate, and just wanted to be with the girls he loved. He came home every other weekend until he got kicked out, spending the time cooing at Rory and trying to show Lorelai how much he loved them. She knew that if it was up to him, he would marry her in a second, but alas, it was not.
For her part, Francine enjoyed those visits. She got to see her perfect granddaughter grow, smile, giggle, eat her first foods. She was privileged enough to cuddle the infant. But now, that was all done, over. Lorelai had left, Richard and Straub were furious, and her little Christopher was sent to Europe.
She didn't know what to do anymore. Her head hurt and she had absolutely no idea how to fix this, how to help her broken son. Francine knew that Lorelai didn't need anyone's help - she had proved that already - but Christopher was different. She laid down in bed and cried for the loss of the light in Christopher's eyes, but most of all, for the loss of one of the only shining lights in her life- her beautiful Rory.
"How do you spell 'love'?" - Piglet
"You don't spell it...you feel it." - Pooh
They were at the Gilmore's Christmas party, making the rounds. They usually avoided the Gilmores like the plague, but Christopher was home this year and had made it clear that he was going, and the gossip that would ensue if they were not with him would be horrific. She had lost Straub to business talk nearly as soon as they had entered, so she was roaming alone around the impeccably decorated room, searching for the real reason her husband had declared this particular household hostile territory that should be avoided at all cost. She spotted Lorelai, in a blue dress, eyes as shiny as ever, talking to a small child- her granddaughter. She saw Rory skipping away from her mother, straight into her grandfather's office. She smiled slightly, happy to finally lay eyes on the child she had been hearing so much about. She walked closer, and stood, watching her, hidden by the doorway. Francine knew Rory was only four years old, but as Francine watched, it became clearer and clearer that this child was all Lorelai. She looked like a copy of the pictures of Lorelai that Emily used to have in the less formal sitting room, and she had that energy that never seemed to run out.
But as Francine watched, the differences started becoming clear. She was sitting in an arm chair, knees pulled up to her chest as she bit her lip in concentration, reading a book. She was totally focused, and a look of puzzlement crossed her pretty face. She was trying to pronounce something now, lost in her own world.
"-und-under's-under'sti-ma-te?" she stuttered, her face scrunched in confusion.
"Underestimate, kiddo," Francine heard her son say as he walked past her and into the room.
"Daddy!" The little girl jumped from her seat and into his arms, clasping her little fingers, decorated with purple nail polish, around his neck. "I missed you! I didn't know you were coming! Mommy didn't tell me. Why didn't Mommy tell me? I could have brought your Christmas present with me. I made you a great present Daddy, I really did! But now you won't get it because we sended it to you in the mail," she ranted, tears showing in her eyes.
"Hey, hey, it's Christmas! No tears allowed here," Christopher admonished, brushing them away with his fingers. "I'll get it when I get home. Right now, I have the best Christmas present anyone could give me."
"What Daddy? What did you get? And how do you know it's the best? You didn't even saw what I made you! Really, Daddy-" she started again, and he chuckled as he sat down in the armchair with her on his lap.
"Ror, the best Christmas present is getting to see my favorite daughter," he exclaimed, kissing her on his forehead.
"Daddy, I'm your only daughter," she flashed him a big smile. "That you know of," she added, giggling at the joke she heard her mother repeat countless times.
"Boy, you have been spending too much time with that mother of yours. So, you like the book?" he asked, motioning to the abandoned copy of Winnie the Pooh that was now lying on the floor.
"Yeah! Thank you so much Daddy. I love all the books you gived me!"
"Well, this one used to be a favorite of mine when I was little. Want me to read to you? Or do you want to read to me? Your mom tells me you are getting to be an expert reader," he said, leaning over to pick up the book and then readjusting her in his lap.
As father and daughter delved more and more into the book, oblivious to the world around them, Francine got to observe the details of her granddaughter. How she bit her lip in concentration, how her eyes grew when she recognized something, how the deep, rich blue of her eyes was so different from Christopher's light sky colored ones, how her chestnut curls contrasted with his dirty blond. She was so mesmerized by the two of them, that she didn't notice the footsteps approaching and barely noticed the picture being placed in her hand. Lorelai didn't say anything, just turned on her heel and disappeared back into the party.
The picture showed a little girl with dark ringlets and shining blue eyes smiling at the photographer, happily oblivious to anything amiss in her life or circumstances.
"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."
She had made a tradition for herself. Every year, on the first weekend in October, she told Straub she was going to a spa, but instead reserved a room at the Independence Inn under her maiden name and went for the weekend. She would walk around quietly, having all her meals delivered by room service, carefully avoiding contact with anyone, just looking at the grounds and watching Rory run around and play. She was growing, getting so big and beautiful, and Francine wished she could be a bigger part of it. Every year, right after she checked out, she silently placed a wrapped present outside the door of the potting shed. Straub might not allow her to be here, he might not allow her to associate with, speak to, or hug her granddaughter, but he couldn't prohibit her from giving Rory this little bit of affection. She never signed the card, but she knew Rory got the gifts.
When they moved from the inn, she had found Lorelai's new address and started mailing the presents, although she continued to come to the hotel. It wasn't until that disastrous dinner when Rory was sixteen that Straub threatened to divorce her if she didn't stop. "She ruined Christopher!" he roared, frightening her and not helping her headache. "We will have nothing to do with that- that child, do you understand me?" His eyes and bright red face seemed to amplify his voice more, and she understood that this tie to her granddaughter was also severed.
She watched Christopher shuffle into the house later that weekend. Seeing the look of devastation on his face she realized that once again, Lorelai had turned him down. Her boy, much like her, was compliant and soft, while Lorelai…she could break a bulldozer. Her sweet, sweet boy, so lost. She didn't know how to help him and what to do, and she watched him sulk around for another night before he gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and returned to his collapsing business.
Until Lorelai got pregnant, she had always thought of her as the daughter she never had. She and Straub had Christopher after years of trying, and when he was about ten years old, she finally gave up on having another child. Christopher had been quiet as a child, encouraged by Straub to read and work toward his future and by Francine herself to stay inside, away from danger, although she could see that naturally he was far more outgoing and boisterous than they would have liked. Lorelai was a bright light in the Hayden household, and especially in Christopher's life. They were so good together, keeping each other on their toes, and she finally saw her son emerging. Lorelai brought him out of his shell and he toned her down a little- though not much. They always joked with the Gilmores that Lorelai would make an excellent lawyer one day, if her quick wit and sharp mind were any indication. Straub had even talked about getting her summer work at his firm. All that brightness, that future, went down in flames when the stick turned pink and Francine lost the girl she had thought of as a daughter.
"Hallo, Rabbit," he said, "is that you?"
"Let's pretend it isn't," said Rabbit, "and see what happens."
Francine stood behind the Irvings, looking straight ahead at Rory descending the staircase with Christopher. There was so much elegance in that girl, so much beauty, so much inner power, that she needed to stop herself from gasping. She was the perfect combination of both her parents Francine told herself, looking at Rory follow the motions she never got to see her son and Lorelai dance to. As everyone was mingling at their tables, she felt as if there were eyes on her back, and she turned to see Lorelai's unmistakable, piercing blue gaze. She couldn't read the emotion on Lorelai's face, she doubted anyone could (besides Christopher on some occasions), but then she saw a slight nod of approval, and felt as if a rock had been removed from her heart. Lorelai turned, accepting Christopher's invitation to the dance floor, and Francine found her seat, watching them dance as if they were one being.
She was silent throughout the evening as she listened to the conversations around her. Rory was the talk of the evening, and everyone was impressed by this seemingly quiet and harmless girl. She heard Janlan Dugrey saying that he believed that Rory was the only young lady to ever turn down his grandson, and she couldn't help but giggle. It seemed that Rory had established herself a good, even excellent, reputation in her short time in society. She couldn't help but feel proud, and a little sad for not being a part of all this.
The following week she got an envelope in the mail with the official picture of Rory from the party, and a picture of Christopher and Rory walking down the steps. She framed the pictures and placed them in the spare bedroom, her little corner that Straub never ventured into.
"When you see someone putting on his Big Boots, you can be pretty sure that an Adventure is going to happen."
Francine hated that Tinsdale woman from the moment she met her. She was cold, fake and most definitely not good enough for her boy. When she learned the reason he left Lorelai, she was enraged. He once again had chosen to not do right by his first child.
When she came to the hospital to meet her new granddaughter, she stopped in her tracks as she saw Rory holding the infant, with both her parents around her. For a second, she forgot who the mother of the baby was, and let herself imagine that her dreams have finally come true. She quickly snapped out of her daze when Christopher took the baby from Rory, and the two Gilmore girls made their way out the door. When they were gone, she walked into the room and met her new granddaughter.
She ohh'ed and ahh'ed at the baby appropriately, but there was a part of her that couldn't help but resent the infant. She came in the way of what has been in the works for over seventeen years, and Francine was having a hard time letting go of the hope.
She looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. Gigi, they called her, short for Georgia. Honestly, who names their child after a state? she thought, slightly horrified at the name. It's not that she didn't appreciate the sentiment of naming the child after her father, but there were other much more pleasant names, like Georgiana. Granted, her son did not share her love of Jane Austin, but she was positive he had read her favorite book more than once. In fact, she was sure that he had purchased a copy for Rory for one of her birthdays, stating it was a favorite of hers. She smiled, recalling the day.
She left the hospital that day vowing to be part of this grandchild's life. When that horrible Tinsdale women left, she pushed Christopher to finally take responsibility for his child, and helped him along. It might not be Rory, but perhaps she could begin to make up for what she had done wrong.
"To the uneducated an A is just three sticks."
When Rory graduated from Chilton, Straub handed his wife a ticket and warned her gruffly to stay out of sight. He knew very well that even after his warning to stay away, she had attended every public performance of her granddaughter's, and if she hadn't missed her eighth grade graduation, she sure as hell was not going to miss this one. She stood in the background, watching Rory stand up to speak as valedictorian. For Francine, this girl, who to her husband symbolized the end of both her parents' academic glory, was not just standing there as valedictorian, the best in her class. It was the closing of a circle. Because if she squinted her eyes enough, she could see Lorelai standing there, Christopher watching from his seat with admiration. Yes, there was no doubt in her mind that Lorelai would have been up there, shining brightly, just as Rory was now.
She wiped a tear from her face as she listened to her granddaughter speak about her grandparents' and mother's roles in her life, realizing how much she had missed. She had missed out on being a grandmother to this truly astonishing young lady who was standing here, proving that the brightest light can shine from the most unexpected places.
"Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think about it."
He was dead. Deceased. Gone. Buried. Perished. Passed away. Bereft of life. And she was, for the first time since she was about twenty, alone. She had never been alone. She went from her parents' house to her husband's, from submitting to them to submitting to him.
All her true friends were long gone. It was hard to maintain friendships while married to Straub. He was a harsh man who loved his wife and son, but never showed it. Slowly, her friends and their spouses began drifting away from her. Soon, all that she was left with were her husband's business connections and their wives. After the scandal, she was left with no friends, only associates.
She was alone. She stared down at the grave, sudden tears in her eyes. She could still hear Straub's voice in her head, talking to her, telling her what to do.
"Mother?" Christopher said, placing an arm on her back "Ready to go?" He didn't wait for an answer, but gently led her towards the car that awaits them.
"Oh Tigger, where are your manners?"
"I don't know, but I bet they're having more fun than I am."
She watched Georgia sitting properly in her chair at the tea party, dressed in her finest dress, which Francine had had specially made, and every one of her hairs in place. A smile of satisfaction crossed Francine's face, peeking over to Emily Gilmore, who was instructing the young girls of proper use of their silverware. Georgia was only seven, but Francine was making sure that she had the proper upbringing and that nothing stood in her way of being a part of society.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Rory walking towards the garden with a blond women and Lorelai, who was pushing a double stroller while holding the hand of a young boy. They stopped by the fountain, and she watched as Lorelai took an infant out of the stroller and handed it over to the blond. Francine sighed, regretting that Christopher could not make their marriage work, and looked back to see her younger granddaughter quickly sprinkle something into one of the other girls' tea. Georgia sent a quick smile to the brunette sitting next to her, and Francine couldn't help but smile at her antics.
"Rory!" A sudden yell out of her granddaughter's mouth snapped her out of her daydream, as she watched Georgia race across the garden and hop into the arms of her older sister, shouting her name with glee.
Rory scooped the child into her arms, hugging her tightly, before placing her back on the ground. She looked around for a minute, her face becoming the picture of innocence as she walked towards her grandmother, taking hold of Gigi's hand.
"Honestly, Rory, what a rude interruption. There is a class going on here!" Emily admonished, sending a glare at her daughter and granddaughter.
"Hey Grandma," Rory says, looking directly at Emily. "I'm sorry for interrupting. Can I borrow Gigi for a few minutes?" At the hesitation on Emily's face she added, "We got her flower girl dress and I just want to make sure everything fits. Dad told me I could find her here."
Emily's face softened, and she said, "Well, I suppose a few minutes couldn't hurt," before turning back to the other girls.
Francine watched her granddaughters leave the garden, disappearing with the rest of their party into the club's building. Georgia returned, all smiles, about twenty minutes later. She took her seat, and immediately started telling something to the other girls at her table, completely ignoring Emily.
"Georgia Hayden! Really, where are your manners?" Emily admonished her, and Georgia blushed bright red.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gilmore," she said quietly, before going totally silent.
The rest of the event passed uneventfully, as Francine watched her granddaughter follow instructions bleakly, with a bored expression on her face, the shine of excitement in her eyes gone.
"Friendship," said Christopher Robin, "is a very comforting thing to have."
She knew she shouldn't be here. This was definitely not her place, and her heart was pounding as she stood at the end of the hallway, stealing a glance at Rory, looking so tiny folded on the green hospital chair, her knees drawn up to her chest. She saw Lorelai take the sit next to Rory, handing her a bottle of water, a look crossing between them. A second later, Rory was huddled in her mother's arms, crying.
"Shh, baby, it's going to be okay," she heard Lorelai say, even though there were also tears in her eyes.
When Christopher came by with Georgia last night, asking to drop her off for the night, she did not think much of it. It was only when he came back in the morning, eyes bloodshot and clothing wrinkled, that she understood that something was very, very wrong. After they sent Georgia off to school, she had the maid make him some more coffee and insisted that he tell her what's the matter.
"There's been an accident," he told her, passing his hand in his hair as a nervous gesture. "Logan was driving back from work when a teenager lost control of his car and rammed into him, head on. He's in pretty bad shape." She gasped, shocked, motioning for him to continue.
"Doctor says that they had to remove his spleen, and that he has a few broken bones, but their main concern is head trauma, and they won't know much about that until he wakes up. I'm actually just going to grab some clean clothes and head back," he said, starting to make his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.
"Christopher," she started, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach with worry. "Is Rory, I mean, in her condition, How… Uh, She-with." She stopped, needing to clear her head for a minute before rephrasing her question.
"She is doing as well as can be expected. We're making sure she drinks and eats. Baby's fine," he answered quickly, running up the steps.
She went to the hospital every day, looking from afar and making sure that Rory's husband was receiving the best care possible. She watched friends walk in and out, making sure that there was not a second during the day or night, that Rory is alone. Christopher, Lorelai and that husband of hers were all there constantly, united in the cause of making sure Rory was taken care of. They all breathed a sigh of relief when a few weeks later Logan was discharged with a clean bill of health, and the radiating smile returned to her granddaughter's face.
"It was just as if somebody inside him were saying, "Now then, Pooh, time for a little something.""
She was only in New York for a day, confirming some changes in her will. When the lawyer finally declared that they were finished and he would only need her to come back in a few weeks to sign the final documents, she breathed a sigh of relief (Straub had usually been the one to take care of the legal details), and walked out of the office. She decided to take a walk in Central Park, which was where she saw them.
She sat at a bench across the grass patch, spotting Gigi rolling down the little grass hill with a little girl, laughing hysterically. Once at the bottom, both girls stood up and ran to a woman who was sitting on a picnic blanket, with a little boy by her side and a baby in her lap. She looked carefully, judging the other little girl to be about three or four years old and the little boy about a year or two older than her. She squinted hard, and it finally hit her. The woman was Rory, the baby in her lap was her great-grandchild, and the two other children must have been Lorelai's.
She watched them for a minute, seeing Gigi offer her hand to the smaller girl, leading her and the little boy back to their game. Seeing the smile on her younger granddaughter's face, she came to a decision. She was done sitting in the sidelines, watch her loved ones from afar. She had done that for enough years, enough important events. She stood up, and walked right up to an unsuspecting Rory, coming to a stop in front of her.
"Hello, Rory," she said, her voice shaking. "May I join you?"
"Uh, sure," Rory mumbled, taking a minute to determine who she was. "Francine, right?"
"Yes. It is so nice to see you again," Francine said, a big smile settling on her wrinkled face as she sat down by Rory, on the blanket, her eyes focused on the infant.
"Likewise," Rory answered, sharing a kind smile. "This is Riley." She pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek, causing the baby to giggle, and glanced quickly at the two toddlers playing with Gigi.
Suddenly, Francine felt better than she had in years, as if a huge weight has been lifted of her shoulders.
"Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known."
Thoughts? Feelings? Suggestions? Loved it? Hated it? Any sort of words come to mind? Leave a comment!
They make me want to write more.