I'm really really sorry for taking so long for this chapter. This semester is really stressful with lots of work.

I really hope to be able to update before July! ;-)

GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*GG*

Part 7

It was still early in the morning. The first streams of light were peaking through the curtains of my window.

Carmen was still asleep. She looked like a little angel.

I left the room of childhood silently and shut the door behind me.

"You can't do that! I need my coffee. One day you'll kill me with this…" She was searching for words.

"Tea?" he proposed friendly.

"I need my daily dose of coffee!"

"You will kill yourself with this."

Was it really possible? My steps slowed down. Was I still dreaming?

Had it all only been a terrible nightmare?

I approached the kitchen and the voices tentatively.

-Flashback-

"No, Lorelai. You won't get another cup of coffee today."

"Luke!" She looked at him, her eyes pleading.

He sighed. "How many?"

"Well…only two…five."

-End-

My heart beat heavily.

I knew that it wasn't Mum and Luke, who were having this argument. I had still clasped to the most unrealistic hope like a castaway to his life boat.

Luke was giving my pregnant daughter a critical look. Suddenly he noticed me. "Good Morning, Rory." I had always been his little Rory, despite everything that had happened.

How much can a person love to forgive in such a way?

The life boat sank and pulled me into the depth of the ocean. I was awake.

"Hi, Mum." Carol looked at me hesitantly. Her delicate fingers moved through her blond hair. She had always played with her hair whenever she was nervous. I examined her shortly.

It wouldn't take long anymore. She would soon make me grandmother for the third time.

"How could you get onto a plane in your condition?" This was my greeting from my daughter whom I hadn't seen for almost a year. My greetings for the daughter who had come first to support Mum, Luke and me.

"Mum, I…"

Suddenly Ramon entered the room, who naturally had to share his opinion with us.

"I told her to come after the delivery, but…"

"You wanted to keep her from seeing her sick grandmother?" He shouldn't believe that I felt any kind of sympathy for him or his family.

"Lorelai. Mama and I only want the best for her. The doctor said…"

"I have always wanted the best for my daughter." And that's definitely not you.

"I never claimed you didn't."

"Coffee?" Luke tried to distract us. For some reason, he actually liked the man who had destroyed the life of my daughter.

"Yes, thank you." I gave in willingly.

He handed me a cup, smiling softly.

"Thanks. By the way, Carol, where is Juan?" I missed my little grandson.

Carol and Ramon looked at each other. "He became a little sick. Susanna takes care of him. She'll bring him over soon."

It hit me like a slap in the face. "Good." It didn't sound cold enough.

I turned to Luke again. "Is Mum awake?"

He nodded lightly.

"How is she?"

"Unchanged."

Unchanged. It was far from good but at least she wasn't worse than yesterday.

I suddenly noticed the tray on the little table. "Can I bring it to her?"

"Of course. She has to take three of the red and two of the yellow pills", he explained.

He sounded tired.

"I want to come with you", Carol said.

"I'm not sure if that's good. She might not remember you…"

"I'm read…ready for this." She tried to sound convincing.

"As you wish."

Mum smiled lightly as we entered the room. "Rory."

"Good Morning, Mom. How are you feeling?" I put the tray on the night table.

Mum examined Carol carefully. She seemed to think hard.

Carol breathed deeply. I could guess how she felt.

"Hi Grandma. " She took Mom's hand hesitantly. "Are you cold? Your hand feels so cold. Shall I get you another blanket?"

Mum smiled. "I feel so hot."

"I'll get you a wet pack." Carol left and returned after a few minutes.

"Thank you." Mum looked at me. "You've got a really nice friend."

Carol's eyes started to tear. I pressed her hands. "Mom. This is Carol. My daughter."

"Your daughter?" Mum examined the fabric of her blanket. Suddenly her expressions changed. "You told me about your pregnancy yesterday. How old are you, Carol?"

Carol was still fighting with her tears. "39."

Mum smiled. "Is she your only child?"

Tears started to run down the pale cheeks of my daughter. She couldn't understand what had happened to Mom.

I wanted to say something, but Mom was faster.

"Don't cry, sweetie. You memory works perfectly well. Believe me, my situation still has some advantages. It's often better to not remember everything." She blinked at her.

It felt like a stab directly into my heart. Was she even aware of what she'd just said? She might have not meant it this way, after all, Carol didn't interpret like I did. She even tried to smile under her mist of tears.

"Come on, you two, sit down. Carol, do you have any siblings? Don't keep me in suspense!"

Despite the very apparent increase in her memory loss, Mum seemed to be having a good day.

"I have a brother and a sister."

Mum turned to me. "So you had three children from Logan."

Carol flashed me a glance. She and my Mom were the only ones to know of my secret.

-Flashback-

I cradled little Matt happily in my arms. His eyes were as dark as his father's. I caressed his cheek softly. He was a child of true love.

Suddenly Logan entered the room, followed by his parents. There had almost been no day since his birth that they hadn't come to see him.

They hadn't even been half as much into Carol.

She had always tried very hard to please her father's parents but had never succeeded. Even though she was the spitting image of her father. She was a girl and therefore not as worthy to them.

Also, she had been the reason for our marriage, which otherwise probably wouldn't have taken place. They probably even hated her as much as they hated me.

Mitchum was terribly proud of his son for fathering a son and therefore continuing the Huntzberger line.

I still remember how they had all sat together in our living room, smoking a pipe.

The thought, that it hadn't been Logan, who had fathered a son, was a great satisfaction to me.

-End-