Ok, so here is the next chapter … finally! My beta left me for New York City – apparently she loves Broadway more than me. Thus don't be too hard on me if you notice any errors or things that make you go 'hm…' I did this chapter all on my own and didn't have my security blanket with me. This chapter is a little longer than usual, so I hope that makes up for the long time that you had to wait for it! I am moving to Atlanta (and then New Orleans) at the end of the month, so give me about two weeks to get settled and then hopefully things will be back to normal!

CHAPTER TEN

"Paulie…"

Paul Nelson looked up at Lorelai. He didn't actually even have to look up know it was her. She was the only person that called him by that name. The only one, thankfully. For some reason, as a child, she had decided to start referring to him in that manner instead of using his real name like everyone else. Their mothers were best friends and she felt that they, too, should have something unique between them even if they weren't really that close. And she was five years old when she gave him the nickname, so it didn't really come with a logical explanation.

"Lorelai, it's nice to see you," he smiled, stopping in the hallway as she approached him. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," she nodded. It was still a bit odd to see him in a lab coat and walking the halls of a hospital. He had been such a prankster and wild kid in school. She'd never actually expected him to grow up and become so straight laced, though he had probably never expected anything great out of her either. Getting drunk behind the bleachers at football games was about the only time they had ever bonded.

"I hear your daughter is about to graduate from college. Yale. That's impressive. Our kids are still in high school, but they'll be out of the house in no time. It's hard to believe." He shook his head as Lorelai nodded in agreement. She didn't really know that much about his family. He'd married some girl they knew in high school, but that was really all she remembered. She was a cheerleader or class president or something like that. Not the type of girl that Lorelai had hung out with back then. "What brings you by here?" he asked. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"Well … my mother is here."

"Emily?" He sounded worried. "Is she all right?"

"Physically, yeah, she's fine." Lorelai looked down at her handbag. It was light tan and matched her shoes. "She's unconscious. Not in a coma or anything like that, just not waking up after hitting her head pretty hard."

"Oh." It was all he could think to say. His mother had been that way before she died. She wasn't in a coma or a persistent vegetative state; she just never woke up again. They had held off on signing the papers to end the life support hoping she might wake up. Yet she didn't and after three days he and his father had decided that it was time to let her go.

"I hope that she'll be all right. She's always been such a lovely lady. I know the kids here in the cancer wing are crazy about her. I guess I'll have to tell them that she won't be coming by this week. They're going to be so disappointed."

"What are you talking about?" Lorelai asked. Why would a group of kids be disappointed about not seeing her mother this week? And why would her mother even be visiting a group of sick kids? "Is that some sort of DAR thing she does?"

"Story hour … We have it the first Tuesday of every month…" He didn't understand why Lorelai wasn't following him. "She and my mother have been doing it since we were children, Lorelai. They used to bring us with them. It's a huge event. The kids love it."

Lorelai shook her head. "I don't remember that." No, she had no memories of anything like that. Nothing. "You mother died a few years ago, right?" She seemed to remember her mother talking a little about Melinda's death. It was just before Trix had died. Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over her for berating her mother over not having a good enough story to tell about why her best friend was called Sweetie.

"Yeah, a little over three years ago. She and your mother always came once a month to read to the kids. They would take turns telling the story-" He paused, laughing at the memory, "and usually my mother would act out some of the parts, seeing as she was a bit more outrageous and impetuous than your mother." The image of his mother made him smile. "I took over her part when Mom died. I think it was hard for Emily to continue without her, but it's helped both of us deal with our loss."

"How long has my mother been doing this?" Lorelai asked.

He had to think about it for a minute. "We're both around forty … So, I'd say at least thirty-five years maybe."

Lorelai didn't know what to say. She was actually a bit relieved when a voice over the speaker system paged Dr. Nelson to the Emergency Room.

Paul rushed off, bidding her goodbye and telling her he'd be thinking about her mother as he hurried down the hallway. Lorelai remained standing where she had been. "At least thirty-five years," she muttered. "What else don't I know about you, Mom?"

Richard sat in his meeting, listening to Dean Willis talking about enrollment management and the growing number of economics majors. This was a good sign, he had said, that the field was about to experience an influx of new life and that Yale was at the start of that new era. They were at the dawn of a new age in economics and it was their responsibility to steer their students in the right direction. They, the top professors in their field, were the ones responsible for shaping these young minds and for molding their future successors. Richard had no interest in the meeting. It really didn't even make sense why he was required to be here. He was just a visiting lecturer. This was information intended for faculty, not for the whole department. He didn't publish in academic journals or give presentations at conferences and semiannual gatherings of economists. His Yale responsibilities did not include mentoring students about their careers and future educational plans. Sure, he willingly gave his time if a student asked yet he didn't have any formal responsibilities within the department. He had never performed any of the academic duties that the faculty professors did on a daily basis. He was an insurance man. It made no sense that he had been required to attend. Silently, he chided himself for having come to the meeting.

This was typical Richard Gilmore, leaving his wife behind to go to some meeting that wasn't really as important as he'd made it out to be. He'd put his job before his wife so many times that he couldn't begin to count how many times he'd done it in the last forty years. Even after so many decades she still had the same look on her face every time he left. And he still left her, seeing the sadness in her eyes as she kissed him good-bye and watched him walk out the door time and time again. He still left her.

Emily rarely complained about his absence. She didn't complain when he'd tell her that he was going out of town this weekend or going to be away for a week or two on business. When he would start to spend too much time away from home and spend all his time at work she would just nod and say "I'll see you tonight." Rarely did she complain. Yet even when she did he never paid much attention to her. He would always insist that his work was important and that he had to be away from home and thus away from her. She had played the role of wife so well that sometimes he even forgot that it really was just a front and that deep down she was hurt each time he put his job above her. He had made many mistakes in his lifetime. He had taken her for granted so many times in the past forty years. It made him ashamed to think about it. Undoubtedly he was one of the luckiest men to be married to a woman like her, to be loved by a woman like her. His friends and colleagues envied him. He knew it. Even Emily knew it. And yet from the beginning he had started this forty year cycle of leaving her behind to go listen to some old man talking about things that weren't really that important or pressing that he had actually needed to leave her at that moment.

"Are you happy?" Emily asked, turning on her side to face her husband as the bed sheet covered her body. She and Richard had only been married a few months now.

Richard laid his head back against the pillow. It was just past six o'clock in the morning but the light of the sun was already coming through the windows. "Of course I am." Emily smiled rather weakly. "Are you?"he asked in return, rolling his head to the side to look at her.

"Of course I am," she agreed.

Richard learned forward a bit, propping himself up on his elbows to look over at her. "Is something wrong?" It was rather out of the blue for her to ask a question like that. It was rare that she talked about emotions. She would say 'I love you' and the like, but she always shied away from emotional talk. Their love didn't need to be explained. She knew that he loved her deeply and he knew that she felt the same way. Neither of them needed to express their emotions verbally to feel a connection and to be reassured.

Emily shook her head. "No, I just… I'm being silly." She smiled, trying to reassure him. There was a look in her eyes that caught his attention and he couldn't quite let it go that easily. He persisted.

"You know that you can tell me anything, Emily, even if it is silly…." She forced herself to smile widely. They had been married for only a few months now yet it already felt like his work was taking over his life. She didn't want to be one of those women who complains about her husband always being away on business. But lately they had barely spent any time together. And the time that they did have together, well, they'd didn't spend it talking. They were newlyweds, after all. A few exchanges of pleasantries and they were both far too wrapped up in their passion to bother talking.

"It's nothing," she reassured him, reaching out to pat his leg reassuringly as she rolled onto her back and laid her head down on the soft pillow.

Richard didn't believe her and moved over, pulling her into his arms. Emily willingly settled into his embrace, resting her head against his chest. "I know I haven't been around much since we returned from our honeymoon."

"Your job is important, Richard. You have to earn your position in the company." Richard wrapped both of his arms around her tightly. She sounded like she had practiced that line many times before to make it sound like she actually meant it.

"I care more about my place in this family," he smiled, his hand rubbing her shoulder.

"It's only the two of us."

"We're still a family, Emily."

"You always do know just the right thing to say," she smiled, looking up at him.

"It's not that difficult when you're married to such an amazing woman."

"Oh please," she laughed, placing her head against his chest once again. She could hear his heart beating in her ear. The monotone rhythm was actually rather soothing. She closed her eyes, just enjoying being with him.

"Why don't we go away for the weekend…" he suggested.

"What?" Emily pushed out of his embrace, sitting up to face him.

"You don't want to go…?" Richard shifted his position, leaning back against the headboard.

"I didn't say that," she corrected him. "Just … this weekend?"

"Yes, this weekend," he insisted. "Come on, Emily. We're young and supposed to be impetuous. Let's go into New York City. We'll see a show and spend the night at a hotel. It will be fun."

Emily smiled up at her husband. "That sounds wonderful," she agreed. "But let's skip the show," she suggested with a wink before leaning over to kiss her husband. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Emily asked, feeling more than a bit self conscious as Richard gazed at her for longer than she had expected.

"Can one not think how beautiful his wife is?" he asked, propping his elbow beneath himself and resting his head in his hand.

"One should think these things aloud so that one's wife knows what he feels," she grinned.

Richard laughed at her playful mood. "If one spoke them, then they would no longer be thoughts," he countered. He brushed the back of his hand down her shoulder.

"Yes, but one's wife would be very happy," she laughed, watching his hand out the corner of her eye.

"Well, then," he grinned. Emily giggled as Richard moved his hand to caress her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers against her skin and being so close to him.

"What if one tells his wife that she is incredibly sexy … what type of response would that elicit?" he asked.

"What don't you try and find out…" she suggested, opening her eyes again to look into his.

"I already have," he informed her, moving over to rest his body atop of hers. He bent down to kiss her as the phone began to ring. Emily groaned as her husband rolled off of her, moving out of bed to answer it. She rolled over, pulling the cover over her body as she listened to him talking to the person on the other end of the line. She could tell that it was business and knew that he would soon dash into the closet and then be off to work, not even bothering to eat breakfast.

"What was that about?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows as Richard hung up the phone.

"Just some company affairs, nothing to concern yourself with." He looked towards the closet, "Well, I should go get dressed."

"Yes," Emily agreed sadly as Richard disappeared from the main room. She sighed, falling back against the pillow. It always the phone, his back, his colleagues, his clients, or someone or something interrupting them from being alone together.

Richard soon came out of the closet fully dressed. Emily moved to get out of bed, but he came over to her, bending down to kiss her. "It's still early. Go back to sleep for a while," he suggested, kissing her. It was just a quick, goodbye kiss that left her feeling rather let down as he moved to the door. She laid her head down, sighing in frustration. Her husband must have sensed her frustration as he let go of the door handle, moving back to the bed. He pressed his knee against the mattress, bending over his wife's body as he brushed his lips against hers. "Tonight, I promise," he smiled.

Emily reached her hand up to cup his cheek as he kissed her, smiling up at him. "Tonight," she whispered. Richard kissed her once more before finally leaving for work.

Richard put down his pen, picking up his notebook. He wasn't going to do this anymore. No more was he going to waste the time that he had left with her. He was going to take advantage of every second from now on. When she woke up, things were going to be different. He wasn't going to let his job take over his life. He was not going to go on out of town trips and leave her at home. If she couldn't go with him, then he just wasn't going. He was not going to make her cancel their social engagements because he was too busy at work. Not anymore. And he certainly was not going to spend the golden years of their lives selling insurance.

A few of the faculty members looked over at him as he made his way out of the room, yet no one stopped him from leaving. All he wanted was to get back to his wife, a feeling that he was quite familiar with. He promised himself that it would be different from now on. And he knew that this time it really would be.

Lorelai stood at the end of her mother's bed. "Oh, Mom," she whispered, "what happened to us?" Lorelai shook her head, trying to put all the pieces together. She just couldn't stop looking at her mother. Today was different. Something about today was different. It was like she was seeing a different woman now. All of these things that she had never known about her mother or that she had just somehow forgotten. How could she have forgotten so much? So many memories that she had forced herself to forget. So many good, decent memories. She had convinced herself that her childhood was horrible and miserable. Yet it wasn't. Not always. And when it was, it was her fault as much as that of her parents. Her mother hadn't made her life miserable. There were even times that she had been quite fond of her mother.

The phone rang and Lorelai jumped, surprised by the sudden noise. It took her a few seconds to realize that it was Rory's ringtone. She had to take a deep breath before she snapped the phone open to answer the call.

"Hey, kid." It was an effort to make herself sound fine and she knew that Rory probably wasn't buying it.

"So, how's Grandma today?" Rory asked, holding the phone to her ear as she sat at her desk. She was still mad that both her mother and grandfather had made her promise to stay at Yale and finish her school work. They had both used some line about it being what Emily would want. Rory knew they were right; she just didn't like it. She wanted to be with her mother right now. Even if Lorelai wouldn't admit it, Rory knew that this was taking its toll on her.

"She's the same," Lorelai announced, standing at the end of her mother's bed. She looked down at the magazine she had open. She flipped through the pages, not paying attention to any of the magazine's contents. It was hard not to scan her eyes up just a bit and watch her mother instead.

"Have the doctors said anything? Didn't they want to do some test today? That stimuli/response thing Dr. Reynolds talked about."

"I don't know. No one has come by yet." She closed the magazine, dropping it into the trashcan at the door as she walked by.

"I think I'm going to finish up this paper so that I can get it turned in. Then why don't I come by and stay with you while Grandpa's in his meeting?"

"No," she protested. Lorelai could tell that Rory was about to argue with her. "Grandma and Grandpa would not want you to neglect your schoolwork." She looked up at the clock over the door. "Besides, Grandpa's meeting is probably almost over anyways. He'd be back here before you even arrived."

"Mom … you guys can't make me stay away forever."

"I know you're worried about Grandma. We all are. But there is nothing you can do here. Grandma would want you to stay at school and get your work done. She wouldn't want you to neglect school on her account." Rory was silent. "You know I'm right."

"You are," Rory admitted, unsatisfied.

"Ok, this is a bit out there even me for me, Melinda…"

Sweetie sighed. They were standing by the bathroom door watching Emily and Richard lying in bed. Both were still asleep. Judging from the light coming in the windows, it was early in the morning. "You can be such a prude, Emmy. It's not like you are about to jump him and we're here to see the action."

Emily cringed. "Since when did you become so crude?"

"I've always been this way. And don't pretend that you are always so prim and proper yourself. You've said quite some outrageous things in your time, my friend."

"Well, I've never watched my husband and myself in bed before…"

Sweetie rolled her eyes. "We'll be gone before things heat up, OK?" Emily groaned. She just didn't like the idea of being there while she and Richard were in bed. Despite the fact that it was herself lying there, it just felt odd and voyeuristic. "Now … shhh…. Just pay attention and stop complaining."

It looked like Emily and Richard were awake now as the two women fell silent, watching the scene before them.

"I don't feel well," Emily moaned.

Richard pushed himself up on his elbows. "You've said that for the past five mornings."

"Well, I haven't felt well the past five mornings," she snapped, her arm draped across her forehead to shield her eyes from the light of the morning sun. Richard rolled over, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her neck, but she pushed him away.

"Don't," she mumbled. "I feel sick."

"Maybe you should go see a doctor," he suggested, letting her go as he sat up, his feet hitting the floor.

"I've thought about that but I usually feel fine by the afternoon." She groaned, rolling over and pulling the covers up past her neck. She drew her legs up, moaning again. Richard turned his head away from her for a moment and in that instant it felt like he had been hit with a major revelation. As he looked back at his wife, he suddenly saw her in a different light.

"Emily…" He reached over, shaking her. "Emily…"

"Don't," she mumbled from under the covers. "Just let me lie here."

"Emily…!" he persisted.

"What?" She pulled the sheet away from her face, glaring at her husband. She was clearly annoyed that he was bothering her.

"I don't think you're sick."

"Well, when you feel like going up to the roof and jumping to the ground to help alleviate the pain, you let me know, Richard. Then we'll discuss what I feel like right now." Emily buried her face in the pillow, trying to drain out the daylight.

He shook her again and she once again mumbled for him to leave her alone. "You're not sick, Emily. You're pregnant."

She grasped the edge of the comforter, pushing it away as she turned to look at her husband. "I can't be pregnant."

"Why not?" he asked. "We talked about having a child before. And we don't use any form of contraceptives…"

Emily grasped the sheet in her hand, a look of panic in her eyes. "I … I'm not ready to be a mother, Richard. I have a lot of things to do before spring and summer. I don't have time to grow another human being!" She was no longer certain if the feeling in her stomach was morning sickness or a sense of panic that she had less than nine months to plan for the biggest event of her life.

He smiled at her reaction. "Emily…" She seemed to almost recoil from him as he moved closer to her.

"We've discussed this before. You said that you were ready to have a child."

"Yes," she agreed. "Months ago. We discussed it months ago."

"So you had to know it would happen eventually."

"Well … I … after … it was months ago. When it didn't happen, I guess I just assumed that it wasn't going to happen at all. So … I … I started making other plans. Richard, I'm the matron of honor in Hopie's wedding in six months. I can't be pregnant during her wedding!"

"I don't think you have a choice, Emily."

She felt a sudden panic. This was not the right time. Sure, they had agreed to have a baby but she just didn't know it would happen now. DAR functions, bridal showers, wedding plans, social events, all sorts of occasions flashed in her mind. There was too much to do and not enough time. She pushed herself into a sitting position. "Do you really think I'm pregnant?" she asked. She brought her knees up to her chest. She desperately wanted him to tell her that she was not pregnant and that he was wrong.

"Well, when was the last time you had a … you know."

Emily tried to hide her smile. It was adorable how Richard actually seemed to fear the menstrual cycle. "I don't know," she sighed. "I don't know. I haven't been paying attention to it lately." She took a deep breath. "I don't know the last time. Maybe a month or two ago…"

"You don't have … them … when you're pregnant. So…"

"So, I'm pregnant." Emily ran her hand through her hair, a blank expression on her face. She suddenly had no words to speak. There were really no thoughts to express either. She just couldn't do anything. "I'm pregnant," was all she could manage to say.

Sweetie elbowed Emily in the arm. "Not as creepy as you thought, huh?" she asked.

Emily looked over at her with a smile. "I didn't go to the doctor for a week. I was too afraid of having him confirm it."

"I have never seen any woman so shocked to discover that she's pregnant when it was a planned pregnancy."

"It was not planned!" she argued.

"You told Richard you were ready to have a child and stopped using contraceptives. That's planned, Emily."

"I just … I wasn't prepared. When it didn't happen at first, I thought that it just was not the right time."

"Well, the right time came. It just took a few months. And as much as you and Richard … you know … I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner." Emily blushed slightly. She didn't like talking about such things. It was always Melinda who pushed the envelope, not she.

"I was sick the whole nine months. I guess that was my first sign that Lorelai was a difficult child." She fell silent for a moment, remembering the day the doctor had confirmed for her that she was indeed pregnant. "I was afraid that I wasn't prepared to be a mother, that I wouldn't love her enough." Emily shook her head. "Maybe I didn't always show her how much I love her, but I have always loved my daughter. Even when I was scared of the idea of being her mother, I still loved that little girl growing inside of me."

"It's never been a question of how much you love her, Emily. She knows that you love her. You two just stopped communicating somehow. Instead of talking to each other, you just talked at each other."

"It was so much easier when she was a young child. She loved me unconditionally back then."

"She still does."

Richard walked towards his wife's room. The door at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar and he could see his daughter sitting next to her mother. For some reason, she looked different today. It was like he was seeing his daughter in a different light. He didn't know what about her appearance had changed. Nothing physically had changed. It didn't make much sense, but she just seemed different today. He stood in the middle of the hallway, looking out at her.

"Emily! I'm home!" Richard announced, closing the front door behind him. The maid walked past him and he stopped her, asking if his wife were still awake.

"She's upstairs, sir. I don't think she is feeling well today."

Richard's brow furrowed and he thanked the girl. Emily had felt ill all week. As he mounted the staircase he widened his step, hurrying to be at his wife's side.

"Richard?" she asked as the door to their bedroom opened.

"Yes, Emily, it's just me." Emily was lying in bed. She lifted her head up to see him enter the room. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Emily sighed. "I'm fine. But this child wants out, Richard. And frankly I'm ready for her to be born."

"Well, it isn't time yet," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Richard placed his hand on Emily's enlarged belly. "She may be anxious to get out, but it is not time yet. Just a few more weeks."

"Weeks!" Emily groaned.

"I know this hasn't been easy for you, Emily."

"Easy!" she repeated incredulously. "It has been torture, Richard. Do you have any idea what it is like to sit up here all day and do nothing? The maid comes in every hour and asks if I need anything. That's the highlight of my day – the maid's hourly visits! I turn on the TV and the only things to watch are these horrible shows about people having affairs and switching spouses like they're handbags. I spent two hours today watching the gardener plant flowers in the back yard for entertainment, Richard. Every time he moved out of my sight I felt as if I were going to cry."

Richard smiled, rubbing his wife's hand. "I'm sorry, dear. I wish there was something I could do to make it better."

"You could tell me that I'm not the fattest woman you've ever seen," she suggested.

Richard laughed. "You are not fat; you're seven months pregnant."

"And getting bigger every day," she sighed. "I've never been larger than a size four, Richard. Now … I don't even know what I am now! And when I lie down I can't see anything past my stomach. I haven't put on clothes in two weeks! I probably don't even have anything that fits!"

"You will be your usual self again soon." Emily huffed. "You're gorgeous," he smiled. "More beautiful than I've ever seen you before."

"It's not nice to lie to a pregnant woman," she reminded him, rolling her eyes at his compliment.

Richard laughed again. He lifted his hand, touching the side of her face. "I'm not lying," he said softly, "you are so beautiful to me. I know this isn't how you imagined your pregnancy would be towards the end, but it will all be worth it once we meet our little girl."

"I am excited," Emily admitted with an apprehensive smile. "I just hope that she doesn't hate me from the moment she sees me."

Richard slid his arm around Emily, moving to sit next to her. "You're her mother. You've been taking care of her for seven months now."

"And look what a good job I've been doing. I've been sick the whole time. And now I'm on bed rest."

"That is not your fault, Emily." She didn't respond. "You will be an amazing mother."

"I hope so." She looked down at her hand, which was resting safely in Richard's. "Ow!"

"What?" he asked, a bit worried by her sudden outburst.

"She kicked me in the ribs!" Emily let go of Richard's hand to rub her side. "She kicked me!"

"Maybe she was trying to get your attention to tell you not to be so worried about her arrival," he smiled.

"Or maybe she was trying to tell me once again that she wants out."

Lorelai looked up, seeing her father staring at her. As Richard continued to walk down the hall to the room, she met him in the doorway. Neither one of them even thought or comprehended the movements of their bodies as Lorelai's head fell against his shoulder and Richard's arms went around her body. It had been so long since they had embraced each other. Neither remembered the last time it had happened or even if there had ever been a last time.

"We can't lose her, Dad," Lorelai sniffed. She pulled away from her father, her arms wrapped around her body as she looked down at her feet. She turned to face her mother, her back to him.

"Forty years with her isn't enough time for either of us, is it, Lorelai?"

"Why have I never realized until now that she's not the enemy? She's just my mother … imperfect, tempestuous, overbearing, sometimes spiteful … but just my mother."

Richard didn't know what to say. He just stood behind his daughter, his hand on her shoulder as they looked down at Emily's unconscious form.