AN: Thanks for the reviews/ comments. I appreciate them!

Chapter Seven: Don't let them Win

"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore!" Emily is standing right outside the front door, holding a Burberry umbrella over her head and scowling at me as I trudge up the driveway. She runs down to meet me half way. "Where in the name of God were you!? Your father and I were just about to call the police. I called all your friends; they don't know where you are. Christopher hasn't seen you all day. Then that crazy old dingbat Miss Meade says she saw you on the bus. The bus, Lorelai! Really!"

I can't figure out if she's more upset that I went somewhere without telling her or that I took the bus to do so. "I just needed some time alone, Mom."

"Time alone! Honestly Lorelai!" Emily chides as she guides me into the house. "You do not just vanish without telling anyone. Don't do that ever again."

"Would you please stop treating me like a child?" I shout and back away from her. The maid clucks as I scatter droplets of water all over the newly polished floor. She drops to her knees and attempts to mop it up with a dish towel.

"Inga, please!" Emily shrilly yells. "Go somewhere else!"

She whirls on me. "As much as you would like to think otherwise, missy, you are a child. And as long as you live here you will follow the rules your father and I have made for you. I don't care if you're married or pregnant, you are still my child and I will decide how you live and what you do, is that clear?"

I gawk at her. How dare she? Doesn't she understand that my childhood slipped away the second that stick turned pink? Doesn't she understand that I wish, so, so badly, that the greatest concern in my life would be the ridiculous rules she concocts for me? She's the one who is forcing a life as a DAR wife on me and yet she still reprimands me for having the gall to take some time for myself. No. This is just unacceptable.

"No!" This time I yell it at her. "You can't have this both ways, mother. You can't expect me to be a dignified married lady and a little girl at the same time. It's not gonna work. I've agreed to marry Christopher and I will make a sincere effort to make this marriage work, but let me be very clear about one thing: I am not doing it because you've told me to. I'm doing it for the baby, not you."

"Lorelai…" she says warningly. "That's enough."

"I'm not done yet! This child is mine- mine and Christopher's. You will not interfere! You will not make decisions for it- that will be our job. Yes, I appreciate the help you are willing to give me- I won't deny that. But my allowing you to help us does not give you free reign to run our lives." I run out of breath and stare at her defiantly.

From behind me someone delicately clears their throat. "If that is all, I would like to have a word with the child, Emily."

I freeze. It can't be. She wouldn't fly all the way from England for this. My mother rolls her eyes heavenward and lets out a loud sigh. "Of course," she says and makes a hasty exit.

Gran. It has to be Gran, no one else I've ever met can sound so imperious and condescending. I whirl around and there she stands. Clad in all black, you'd think she had just come from a funeral. Her hair is pulled back from her head in a harsh bun and her blue eyes glint with intelligence. She stares at me evenly, her mouth set in a harsh line. She walks towards the living room and gestures for me to follow.

As she settles in she regards me and my slightly expanded waistline with distaste. "You've caused this family quite a bit of pain, young lady." She begins. I open my mouth to respond to her but she holds up her hand and I remain silent. "Pregnant at sixteen. Forced to marry. Forget about receiving a proper education. It takes a lot of strength to face society in your state. Which is why I was so surprised to receive a wedding invitation from your father. I thought you would have shrunk away from the limelight… and I would have thought for sure that your social climbing mother would have kept this disgrace hidden."

"How dare you call me a disgrace?" I spit out at her and get up to leave.

"I am not done." She stares levelly at me. "I find your willingness to submit to this public sham of a marriage to be very… reminiscent of my own behavior." I gasp, she can't mean… "No, no. I was never in your situation. I was never that stupid. But I do enjoy your refusal to hide. To make them all look at and acknowledge what you've done. Well done in that respect, child. Never, ever let them think they've won. Never let them think that a Gilmore is less than them." She lets out a dry laugh and I wonder if dignified Gran has been hitting the hooch.

"So I'm a disgrace, but you're proud of me?" I ask, mystified.

"I am not proud of the behavior that led to this unfortunate situation, no one in their right mind would be. This absolutely should not have happened. But I am proud of your refusal to hide. Resilience is a Gilmore trait and I admire your ability to face the pack of wolves that will constitute your wedding guests." Gran sits back in her chair and I swear she smiles at me.

I wonder what she would say if she knew I had been thinking about never leaving Stars Hollow. That I had to force myself to leave that homey little diner, that as I sat at the back of the bus and watched that "Stars Hollow Pride Day" banner shrink from view a stream of tears dripped down my face. She wouldn't be so proud of me then, would she?

Gran reaches into a pocket and comes up with a small folded piece of paper, which she presses into my hand. I unfold it and see that it's a check to me for a substantial amount of money.

"Why?" I ask.

"Should you ever decide that life would be better without Christopher," she responds.

"I… I don't understand," I stammer. "You just spent the last ten minutes praising my refusal to leave and now you're telling me I should go. That doesn't make any sense."

"Lorelai, have you every read the poem 'Observation' by Dorothy Parker?" she asks.

"I don't know who that is." I say.

"Look it up and then you'll understand."

"I doubt that very seriously," I respond. "What does a poem have to do with my life?"

"Lorelai, you are doing a wonderful thing by giving that child life, by being so willing to arrange your life around what is best for it." She pauses and looks at me sadly. "Your decision to marry Christopher may be a mistake and if it is, if you ever feel you need to end your marriage and leave, I want you to be able to properly care for my great-grandchild."

I hand the check back to her. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't want your money," I say. "I can make my own way if I have to."

This time she does smile, fully. "Very well. Just know that this was a one time offer." She gets up and heads towards the stairs.

"And by the way," she turns to face me once more. "That ring is far too gaudy."