Thanks for all the reviews, they really make me smile. I never thought of this as a one-shot, but now that some of you mentioned it, I see that it very well could've been one. However I have some more scenes in mind. I don't know the end yet – which is strange, usually I do – so I'll see where the story takes me. I'll try to write as much as I can this month, since I don't think I've much time come February. Thanks again for the reviews, I never thought this story would've such a response. And special thanks goes again to caffeination, who's a wonderful beta. You're great. And now back to the story.

Chapter 2: Home

As hard as I try, I can't get her out of my mind. I switch between thinking it's ridiculous that I even bought breakfast and thinking that I should have taken her with me and made sure she had a bed for the night.

The next night I keep seeing pictures of her in my mind, mingled with pictures of Lorelai and an unknown child, who resembles Rory as a toddler, which was the last time I saw her. I'm so relieved that Richard will be back today. Hopefully I can sleep better with him by my side.

Sadly, I won't have him by my side, since the minute he comes home, he announces that he has to leave again. I try to hide my disappointment, but I know I haven't succeeded.

"I'm sorry, Emily but I have to go. It's just one more week,"

One more week. Right now it seems like an eternity.

"Maybe even shorter," he adds and I try to smile at him. He kisses me and I want to relax, but I can't.

"Are you sure everything is alright with you, Emily?" he asks again.

"I'm fine. Don't you worry," I say, being the supportive wife I've learned to become.

"I'll get you a nice little surprise from Montreal," he promises and when I start to say my obligatory 'That's not necessary,' he hands me a little jewellery box with gold earrings in it that he brought me from his current trip.

"Do you like them?" he asks.

"They're beautiful, Richard. Thank you," I say and before I can help it, my words remind me of her 'Thank you'. Richard shoots me a suspicious look, but before he can ask anything, I take over, demanding to know his schedule for the next week. When he finishes it's nearly time for him to go again, and he's forgotten about my week. At least, he doesn't ask about it again. As he kisses me goodbye, he whispers into my ear that hopefully he will be home next month. All of next month. I smile at him and swallow my 'give me that as my present' remark.

The next day Julia Thermon asks me to go shopping with her. I want to avoid the mall and at the same time, I desperately want to go there. I take this as fate's signal to me that I should go.

I nearly freak when I can't find her. She's not in front of her store. Her store. How ridiculous. She doesn't own it. Then she wouldn't have to beg. I feel an inner panic taking over me.

"…Emily? Emily!" I hear, and look into Julia's concerned face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. What did you say?"

I manage to make small talk and help her pick presents for her daughter – she still has a daughter to buy presents for. But during all this, I can't get my mind off Lilly. Has she already given birth? Was she that far along? Or did the baby come early? Why didn't I ask her how far along she is – that's the first thing you ask a pregnant woman. So stupid. I'm tempted to ask the storeowner, but no, I can't do that. Maybe she's only showering again. It must be a long shower, because we are at the mall for hours and she doesn't appear. I again regret not having taken her with me before.

As soon as I get home, I know that I have to go back to the mall tomorrow. The plan to take her home with me is taking form in my mind. What would Richard say? Well, he's away and I won't discuss that over the phone. It's not my fault that I'm a grass widow nearly half the time. Well, half the time is exaggerated, but Gilmore women tend to do that.

She's at her usual place again, thank God. She doesn't look good. Her dress seems dirtier and her pantyhose has another hole beneath her knee. I quickly disappear into the nearest store to buy her new pantyhose. I open the package and put another note in it, this time simply saying: Follow me. I'm not sure if I've thought enough about this, but I know that I have to do something or those dreams won't stop. When I approach her, I smile at her and hand her the bag. She recognizes me, returns my smile and says her well-known "Thank you," this time adding a "Mrs. Gilmore".

I slowly retreat to the exit and it doesn't take her long to catch up with me. But she's cautious and always some steps behind me, which I don't mind. I don't need to be seen with her. When I reach my car, I turn around and point at the passenger's seat.

"Where do you want to take me?" she asks doubtfully.

"I want to give you dinner and a bed," I say, and with that I open my door and get behind the steering wheel. In the rear mirror, I can see her hesitate, but finally hope or curiosity gets the better of her and she gets into the car. Only then do I notice the small bag she carries with her and suddenly it seems crazy to me that this is all she has.

"I want you to spend the night at my house". There I said it. No more retreating or second-guessing my decision. "If you need to get something else, I can wait."

I see her blush a little and regret that I ever thought she might have more things hidden somewhere. "I don't need to get more, my belongings are in here," she nearly whispers. Since I don't know how to respond to that, I simply start the engine and we head home.

I see her eyes getting bigger and bigger as we approach my home. When we finally arrive, she doesn't say a word. Nina, my current maid, greets us at the door and can't hide her surprise. Her eyes are even a little accusing, as if to say, 'You made me clean the room for her?' but I ignore it. She won't be here for long anyway.

I lead Lilly upstairs to the room next to Lorelai's. I could never give her Lorelai's room, but the one next to it works just as well. I went through Lorelai's closet to find a maternity dress, though. Lilly really can't wear her ragged one any longer. Lorelai's old dress is already laid out on her bed.

"I hope you like the dress. I thought you might want to shower and change before dinner. We eat at seven. Or do you need to eat something first?" I ask her.

She's still taking in her new surroundings. When she notices me looking expectantly at her, she blushes again. "I'm sorry, ma'am. What did you ask?"

I smile slightly. "Nothing important. I just said that maybe you'd like to shower and change before we have dinner at 7."

"Sure. I will. Thank you."

"If you need something, I'm downstairs. Just call me or Nina, the maid."

She nods and I leave the room. Did I do the right thing? I don't know her at all. Maybe she doesn't deserve my trust. Maybe she'll steal and also run away. But someone has to take care of her and her baby.

When I see her, I see Lorelai. Lorelai never let me take care of her. Even when she was little, she rebelled against everything. But maybe Lilly rebels as well? Maybe she and her mother share the same story as Lorelai and I? But then, I'm not her mother and up to now she's seemed grateful. She should be, a pregnant teen in her situation – the best that could happen to her was for someone with decency to find her and take care of her.

At 7 o'clock sharp, she comes down the stairs. At least she's punctual – Lorelai never was. She looks much better in this dress, and the new pantyhose and shower also help, though her face and arms are still too thin considering her condition. She comes into the dining-room hesitantly. I smile at her.

"Please sit down," I say pointing towards her place. It's the one opposite where Lorelai always sat. I can't bring myself to give her Lorelai's place. Some part of me still hopes that suddenly the door will open and Lorelai will yell her 'Watch out - I'm here' … Stop it, Emily. You know that won't happen.

"The table looks great, Mrs. Gilmore," Lilly says, pulling my mind away from those thoughts.

"Thank you," I reply. "Nina, please serve dinner now."

I've never seen anyone eat as fast as Lilly. It's as if the breakfast I bought her three days ago was her last meal. It was probably her last decent meal, actually. But why didn't she tell me, if she was that hungry? I asked her if she needed to eat first – oh yes, that was when she didn't listen. I must've forgotten to ask her again.

It seems like she fears this, too, will be the last meal she has for several days. Doesn't she know I plan on having her stay? Well, maybe she thinks it only is for one night?

"Don't gorge," I correct her and she looks at me defiantly. "It's not good for the baby," I try to soften my reprimand.

"How do you know? Are you a mother?" she asks me suspiciously.

I don't know how I looked to her, but the next second she looks down and mumbles, "I'm sorry, ma'am". For a while, she doesn't dare look at me again, but she does slow down her eating.

Am I a mother? Biologically, yes, I am a mother. For about 20 years now. But I haven't seen my child in ages. Am I a mother? Right now, I'm not mothering my child, how can I? Even when she was here, back then, was I a mother? When Lorelai became a teenager, it was more that both of us endured each other. We didn't really talk. We lived in the same house, but in different worlds. I always wanted her in mine, I still do. I don't know if she ever wanted me in hers; I guess not. I was just annoying to her. So am I a mother if I am an annoyance to my daughter?

When Lorelai was little, I was a mother, maybe even a Mommy. For some glorious moments in between nannies, when I would put her to bed, hold her when she cried, yes, then I was a mother. I'd even say I was a mother when I reminded her of her manners countless times, because isn't that what mothers do? Make sure the child behaves?

But now? I really don't know. I'm a wife, a society lady, but a mother? Oh, I want to be one. Since she left me, I think about it every single day – being a mother and a grandmother. I am one and yet I'm not.

Lilly's fork makes a noise when she puts it on the dish and that pulls me out my thoughts. I won't answer her; I can't. It's too difficult and she's still a stranger in some ways. In other ways, she isn't.

"Do you want more? Though I'm not sure if it's good for you to eat so much when you haven't eaten a lot during the last days."

"You're probably right. I'm OK. It was delicious," she replies and with that last comment, she smiles at me for a second.

"Good. Whenever you're hungry, you can eat something. Breakfast is at 8 am, lunch at 1 pm and dinner at 7 pm. If you're hungry in between, there is always something in the fridge or some fruit in the kitchen. Just go in there and take something if you feel like it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore. Does that mean I will stay for a while?" she asks me hesitantly, barely looking at me.

"Yes," I state.