Tears on My Pillow
Richard and I sit in the living room recovering from what turned out to be an exhausting dinner. We each sip our drinks and sit quietly. I don't know what I was expecting from Lorelai or Rory but it wasn't this. Lorelai seemed genuinely hurt that I kept my illness and Charlie a secret from her for so long. "Like Daughter, like Mother," I suppose.
Rory seemed shell-shocked too but more willing to see our side of things. Charlie, poor dear was simply confused. She is a little girl after all.
"Richard, I'm going to go upstairs to check on Charlie, do you want to join me?"
"No. I need to think, Emily."
It's never a good sign when Richard needs to think with a glass of scotch in his hand. He's wallowing, not thinking. I know he is still deeply hurt over Lorelai's remark implying that we were both lousy parents. I never thought we were but I can't vouch for Richard. He still blames himself for Lorelai running off and for a long while, I blamed him too.
As for Rory's crack about us being too old--age is just a state of mind anyway. Who cares if we're not as agile as we used to be? At least we're not wearing diapers or dropping dentures into a glass. I shudder at the thought. We are active and in pretty damn good shape that is if you ignore my pre-breast-cancer and Richard's angina. We're not that bad and once our new health regimenkicks in, we're only going to get better.
"Richard-- how old was that French woman who gave birth last year, sixty-one or sixty-two?" Why I am thinking of that mystifies even me.
Richard just stares at me blankly and downs another scotch. He's not even listening.
"Alright dear never mind. Don't stay up too late."
Richard mumbles something and continues drinking.
I make my way up to Charlie's room and knock before entering. Charlie is already in her pyjamas and in bed. She looks up at me so endearingly. At least someone is happy to see me. I pull at her blanket, kick off my shoes and slide into bed with her.
"Scoot over, I hope you don't mind."
"Oh no, I'm glad. I thought you were mad at me."
"Mad at you? What makes you think that?"
"Well, sometimes you looked angry at dinner…especially when I came back into the dining room from the kitchen. Did I do something wrong Emily?"
"No, of course not. My being angry had nothing to do with you at all. Please believe me. Did you hear something while you were in the kitchen?" I hold my breath waiting for her reply.
"Little things."
"Do you want to ask me about them?"
She hesitates. "Maybe ...Rory… is nice."
"Yes, she is. I'm glad you liked her."
"Shewas quiet but she got better after the Risotto. Maybe she was cranky because she was hungry?"
"Yes, I think the Risotto did the trick for everyone."
"How come Lorelai doesn't wear pearls?"
"Probably because she doesn't like them."
"Her dress was tight; I could see her boobies!"
I laugh out loud at that one even though I shouldn't. Lorelai's Sex and the City ensembles always leave a lot to be desired. I guess I'm not the only who notices.
"She certainly has a different sense of style or rather lack of one, Charlie."
"I guess. Emily, can I ask you something else?"
She's been asking me questions non-stop and my patience is beginning to give just a little but I relent. "Yes, Sweetie."
"Does Lorelai hate me because I'm sick?"
"What! Don't be ridiculous!" I snap and all at once I can see tears beginning to form in Charlie's eyes. I sigh loudly.
"Oh, Charlie--you are wonderful little girl who is going to get better very soon. If Lorelai hates anyone, it is most certainly me and not you." I say to her reassuringly. It doesn't work. If anything Charlie appears more upset.
"How can she hate you? You're her Mommy! I wouldn't hate you if you were my Mommy!"
"Well, she doesn't really hate me. It's hard to explain Charlie. " I stare up at the ceiling trying to think of what to say next.
"Is she mad at you for something?"
"Yes, I suppose she is. You see, Lorelai and I don't know how to talk to each other very well."
"If you don't talk, then how do you know she's mad?"
"I just know." She leans her head into my shoulder and strokes my hand.
"You and me talk about lots of stuff all the time."
"Yes, we do and I like it." I put my arms around her and snuggle in tight.
"Do you and Lorelai ever snuggle?" That question catches me quite off guard. Hell, we never even hug or kiss let alone snuggle. My arms have ached from the loneliness of not being able to hold or comfort my own child. And the years apart have only made things worse.
"No Charlie, and I don't know why exactly. All I know is that it must be my fault. I wish I were a better M-o-t-h… "My voice breaks and I stop short.
Charlie listens intently and takes it all in. "Is she mad at Richard too?"
"Yes."
"Don't they talk!"
"No and it makes him sad too."
I am so surprised at how open and honest I am with Charlie. Lorelai and I could never speak to each other this way without it turning into some stupid, colossal fight. My heart simply hurts at the thought.
"Emily?"
"Yes, Sweetie?
Charlie looks deeply into my eyes and continues, "You can snuggle with me anytime you want."
This time, tears begin to pool in my eyes. I kiss the top of Charlie's head and hold her tightly.
"Thank you, Charlie. I'd better turn off the light and let you get some sleep." As I sit up and look for my shoes, Charlie reaches out for me.
"Please stay until I fall asleep. Please?" She yawns.
"Okay, I will." I whisper. Then I turn off the lamp on her nightstand, slip back into bed and continue to stroke the top of her head until we both fall asleep.
It's 12 o'clock AM. Lorelai can see the alarm clock from her nightstand. She is stroking Rory's hair as they lay in Lorelai's big bed together.
"Mom, go to sleep. It's late."
"I'm sorry babe. I dragged you up here and I'm not letting you sleep. Go back to sleep." Lorelai turns over on her side just as Rory sits up.
"I'm sorry. I know you want to talk about it. I'm just talked out." Rory pulls her hair back into a ponytail.
Suddenly, Lorelai sits up and turns on the lamp.
"I just don't know what to say or think about my parents. My Mother kept her illness from me. A serious illness. And to boot, my parents are playing Mommy and Daddy again with some Kid I don't even know. A Kid I might add who has cancer. "
"What could they be thinking?" Rory shakes her head as she says this.
"And do you see how they treat her and how she treats them? My Dad was patting her head and my Mother called her Sweetie! She never called me that!"
"She probably did and you forgot. She calls me Sweetie or she used to before our big fight."
"You're her favourite or at least you were before the KID."
"From what I can tell, she does seem to be a nice little girl."
"Traitor! And what were those pearls all about? Is she a clone of my Mother?"
"Come on Mom. Grandma and Grandpa are really doing a very kind and generous thing. Taking in a needy little girl and giving her pearls."
"Little does the Kid know that my parents are the needy ones. They must need a fresh sacrifice for the volcano."
"Stop. They all really seem comfortable with each other."
"Yeah, I've noticed. More comfortable than they ever seemed with me."
"No…just different. Little kids always bring out the best in people. You and Grandma and Grandpa weren't always angry at each other before I was born were you?"
"We had our moments, me and Mom playing with my dollhouse and helping my Dad fix his cars. Well, actually the master mechanic wouldn't let me touch anything just watch…but it was fun sometimes, handing him a wrench and letting him explain all those car gizmos."
"You see."
"I just wish we could have had more of those moments. If we had, I wouldn't feel like so much of a stranger around them and…" Her voice trails off.
"And you wouldn't be so bothered by the Kid?"
"Yeah. I mean I have nothing against bald little kids. They're cute. She's cute. I'm just afraid she's going to get attached to them and they're going to get attached to her and something bad is going to happen. She's going to let them down or they're going to let her down. "
"Grandma said she got a clean bill of health and Grandpa's fine."
"I know but we don't anything about Charlie's illness or her background."
"Well, you could call Grandma in the morning and talk to her."
"No, it's too soon and I'm still pissed. I'll wait a couple of days."
"Do you suppose Charlie heard us from the kitchen?"
The thought makes Lorelai edgy. "I hope not but you never know."
"I wonder if she likes us. Shereads Harry Potter and I have some books she might like to read that are just as good. I'll bring them over next week."
"God, I just can't believe my parents are taking care of a little kid. Hey! I didn't see a nanny--did you? Do you think my Mother fired her already?"
"Mom, turn out the light--I'm exhausted." Rory lies back down and pulls the blanket over her head.
"Okay, Kiddo." Lorelai turns off the lamp and stares back at the alarm clock on the table. It's 12:30 and time to sleep. She closes her eyes and thinks of her Mother and the Kid. "The Kid" she calls Sweetie.